


An Act of Desperation

by RedHawkeRevolver



Series: Shield Me From the Storm [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: And held out til the dawn, Angst, Badass Cor, Badass EVERYONE, Blind Character, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, I just don't have any shame, Injury and recovery, M/M, My ass they 'drifted apart', Or remorse, Smut, They stayed their asses together, World of Ruin, all of my fluff for these two must be laced with pain, badass Iris, emotional smut, for the fluff, getting engaged, getting married, really sad flashbacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-10-16 12:01:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10570893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHawkeRevolver/pseuds/RedHawkeRevolver
Summary: A shield against the storm. A light against the dark. They were those things and so much more to each other. Now they were trying to be those things for the rest of the ruined world. They could choose to let that world pull them apart, or they could find a way to finally bind themselves closer to one another.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rating will probably change in later chapters for emotional smut. Tags will probably be added. And more of my tears. Thanks for reading!

“How long has it been Prompto?”

Ignis knew precisely how long it had been. But Prompto humored him anyway, as he had the past six timed he’d asked.

“Seven hours, fifty two minutes.”

Ignis went back to pacing. He took care to measure his steps. Each pass he made in front of the garage when perfectly timed was one minute. Eight more passes and he was calling it.

“Cindy’s gonna be pissed if you wear a groove into her pavement with all that pacing.”

Ignis ignored Prompto’s attempt at levity. Prompto went back to biting his nails in silence and Ignis resumed pacing. They both knew he should have called it an hour ago, more even, yet he hadn’t. It was a mistake. Mistakes meant lives.

_And of all the lives to endanger..._

But Iris and the Marshal were the best, the most skilled, the most efficient. Aside from Gladiolus they took the worst of the hunts and the most difficult jobs, if only to spare others. Fortunately, the gods had always been with them.

And rightfully so. The _fucking_ gods owed them a few lucky turns.

When word arrived at Hammerhead that the old Formouth garrison still had functional back up generators, Ignis sent out two different groups of hunters to recover them. It was sorely needed equipment, worth the risk. Both groups failed.

The hunters that made the attempts reported that a huge den of Nagarini had nested in the place. Given the intel he had, the supplies they could spare and the fact that Gladio was still away escorting a group of refugees to Lestallum, Ignis calculated that the risk was too great to make another attempt for the time being. But when a distress call came in from Longwythe, that their main generator had failed, leaving the outpost precariously surviving with only one rapidly depleting back up, Iris and the Marshal insisted another attempt be made to retrieve the Formouth cache.

They had protocols for this. Ignis had made them himself. Time tables, check-ins, backups, fail safes. All meticulously orchestrated and _usually_ followed to the letter, and for good reason.

When he, Gladio and Prompto had finally come limping back to Lucis after losing Noct to the Crystal, they found chaos. The remaining Crownsguard was doing their best to continue to serve and protect the citizens as was their last order from King Regis. The hunters were tirelessly battling every daemon they encountered. But there simply weren’t enough resources and not enough manpower to survive the night that had no end. Without a King, or even a wayward Prince, to serve as a beacon of hope and faith, Lucis was worse than on its knees.

It took Gladiolus and Cor to rally the disparate soldiers and shape them into an organized force. It took Prompto and Cindy rigging and salvaging everything they could, to bolster what infrastructure they had left. They even pillaged abandoned Nif tech, arms and transports, anything, everything that might prove useful. And it took Ignis using every ounce of knowledge and strategy he had in him to hold the Kingdom together as it hunkered down to wait out the dark and wait for Noctis to return.

Ignis tried not to dwell on the irony that it was still he who _saw_ all the angles and yet was the least able to act on them. His friends fed him information with unsurpassed patience on everything from refugee numbers to daemon sightings to food stocks to shelter integrity and he did the best he could to piece together the pictures in his mind of the state of their world enough to advise as he’d originally been bred for. It was the least he could do for his King. Without that King to execute his strategies however, he and his friends were doing it themselves. They would not allow Noct to return to a world of ruin.

Ignis also tried not to dwell on the fact that they were living in a mostly ruined world already.

It had been difficult in the beginning, getting some of the hunters, who were accustomed to working alone, to comply with their new marching orders but, in the end, everyone saw that this was the only way they were all going to stay alive. It was rare that anyone broke the rules meant to keep them safe and also thankfully rare that they lost anyone.

Hunts were planned in advance with set numbers of people, itemised supplies and carefully mapped out routes of travel. Time tables were established and each mission was effectively ‘on the clock’ the moment the hunters left their outpost. If scheduled radio or cell phone check-ins weren’t made or if anyone failed to return to base on time, rescue groups were sent. No one was to risk their life unnecessarily and no one was to be left behind.

Iris and Cor had failed to check-in at their appointed time.

Ignis always tried to make sure their resources and reserve forces were three and four layers deep, especially at crucial outposts like Hammerhead. As ever though, the gods seemed to turn a blind eye to the best laid plans of moogles and men.

The ‘morning’ that Iris and the Marshal went on the salvage run to Formouth, Ignis himself insisted they take two full units with them, mostly Crownsguard, leaving Hammerhead with only a skeleton number of support citizens and no dedicated hunters. Gladiolus was still on the road from Lestallum. At his last check in, he reported his team was detoured by a bridge that had gone out and their return would be delayed. Dave’s group had gone to reinforce Longwythe’s crew since most of their lights were now off. Ignis and Prompto were the only capable fighters left.

Well, _Prompto_ was the only truly capable fighter left.

Ignis caught himself before he descended down an unproductive train of thought. He was making strides. Of any that were left who had once tapped into the magic of the Lucian line, Ignis had the most skill in wielding it. It was a small blessing that with the loss of his ability to physically be of any use, his ability to use magic had somehow strengthened. He had an easier time than the rest of the Crownsguard drawing from the thin veins of elemental power left to them from a dormant crystal hiding a dormant king. For most, it was all they could do to bring their glaives to hand.

After many arguments, he had managed to convince Gladio to help him train again with conventional weapons so he could at least defend himself effectively on his own. He felt more comfortable as each day passed but no one was yet willing to allow him to actually join a hunt or a mission on the road. And he was not willing to put anyone at risk with his presence. He refused to be a liability. They were his own edicts.

_No unnecessary risk or loss of life._

The situation that now presented itself, however, was nothing if not the very definition of necessity.

“Ignis…” Prompto’s voice was shaky, but there was no hint of question in his tone. He knew as well as Ignis what needed to be done.

“I know.” He replied resolutely. “Eight hours. I’m calling it.”

Iris had the instincts of a soldier, _of an Amicitia_ . Even without the Marshal, she would never fail to check in. Something was wrong and Ignis would not let Gladio’s sister, _nearly a sister to him as well_ , be lost if there was anything at all he could do about it.

“S...so we’re going right? We’re not waiting for Gladio to get back? We _can’t_ wait...right?” Prompto was standing next to him now and Ignis could almost feel the other man vibrating with nervous energy. It was likely Gladio had established a standing threat that when left in Prompto’s keeping, Prompto was never to let Ignis expose himself to harm. From Prompto’s point of view, if the daemon’s didn’t kill him, Gladio might if he found out about this.

“We cannot wait. It’s _Iris_ , Prompto.” Ignis spoke as if pleading, but there was no need. There would be no protests.

“Right. Let’s go.” Prompto said, with more steel behind the words than in all their weapon stockpiles.

“Prompto, wait.” Ignis reached out and found his friend’s arm. He gripped it tightly as if to emphasize his point. “I don’t care what threats Gladio has made, you cannot, _you_ _must not_ , protect me at the expense of anyone else.” Ignis could almost hear Prompto flinch but he wouldn’t let go of his arm until he acknowledged his duty.

“Yeah, Ignis. I know.” Prompto’s voice lightened then, his spirit ever strong no matter the situation. “Can _you_ protect me though? You know I _hate_ snakes.”

Cindy drove them out to the garrison. Ignis could imagine the suspect scowl she made when he made it clear he and Prompto were going after Iris and Cor alone. She said nothing though and they departed. Ignis asked her to drive slowly enough so Prompto could scan the areas they passed for any sign of their people. Even in the dark, Prompto had the sharpest eyes of them all and could fell a wasp from a mile away with one rifle shot.

“There’s nothin’ out here Iggy.” Prompto volunteered an update as the road rumbled in passing beneath the truck.

Ignis tapped his fingers against his knee impatiently. “No sign of them?”

“No, I mean there’s _nothing_. I’m not even seeing any small daemons or animals. And all the havens look quiet. No big campfires or anything.”

Cindy spoke up. “I thought that last patrol that came in said this highway had a bunch of nasties roamin’ around?”

Ignis dug his fingers into his leg. Roaming daemon packs were ominous. The fact that they were all now _missing_ was even more so. “Faster please, Cindy. Get us to the garrison.”

Cindy stepped on the gas. When they arrived at the road leading to the main gates of the old military installation, they pulled over and Ignis and Prompto exited the vehicle. Ignis gave Cindy his instructions.

“Please go back to Hammerhead and stay there. Send word to Dave at Longwythe and let him know what has happened and where we are. Give him our times. We’ll check in if we can, but under _no_ circumstances is he to send anyone else if no one hears from us or the Marshal’s group. If we don’t return we’ll have lost far too many on this folly already.”

“You want me to call the big guy?” It was clear Cindy did not want to have to be asking that question. _Of course_ she should call Gladiolus. _Of course_ they should have waited for him. _Of course_ Ignis should not be breaking every single one of the godsdamned rules he made himself in one day.

“No. Don’t.” Ignis felt Prompto wince behind him even without seeing or hearing it. “He’s en route and will be back very soon, you can bring him up to speed when he arrives.”

“Whatever you say.” Cindy said in agreement, but her disapproval was obvious. With a final _‘you boys stay safe now, ya hear’_ , she left Ignis and Prompto on Formouth’s doorstep.

As they walked towards the structure that once teemed with Imperial activity, Prompto drew his pistols to hand and Ignis reached out with a faint whisper of magic. He’d discovered soon after his injury, in Cartanica when they’d needed it most, that he was able to use the King’s magic as another sense. At first, it had been difficult to interpret, nothing but unintelligible _impressions_ filling his mind, but he quickly came to realize that he just somehow _knew_ when an enemy was looming or how many there were and also what streaks of weakness they might have. The abilities were still only a vague perception of his surroundings at best and he reserved use of the skill for when the need was dire. He’d only just gotten rid of that _damned_ cane. He had no interest in acquiring another crutch in substitute.

“There’s still nothin’ here Iggy. This is bad isn’t it? Creepy. And bad.” Even after all the dungeons and abysmal pits they’d explored on their journey with Noctis, Prompto had never quite mastered the prudent art of _silence_ in the face of danger.

Ignis must have let out an annoyed huff without realizing it, because when the other man spoke again, it was in hushed tones. He described the scene before them. “The main gate is about thirty yards ahead. Doors are wide open. I can see a few broken down mechs. Probably back from when we wrecked the place with Noct.” A happy lilt accompanied that statement. “But I don’t see any of our people yet, or any daemons.”

Ignis felt no trace of the Nagarini that the first two groups of hunters he sent had encountered. Prompto should at least be grateful for that.

“Let’s keep moving.” Ignis said as he walked cautiously forward, calling his daggers forth. They felt good in his hands. Solid. His dominant blade practically sang to him, familiar and comforting. It was the dagger Gladio had given him what felt like eons ago. All this time and everything they’d been through, he still had it. Even when he thought he might never be able to brandish it again, he’d still kept it close.

Guilt shot through him at the thoughts of Gladio. He felt like a coward having left Cindy to deal with the King’s sworn shield when she returned to Hammerhead. Gladio was certain to be, at the very least, irritated at Ignis’ actions and, at most, violently homicidal over them. But there was nothing for it. This was the only option they had without leaving _family_ in harm’s way.

When he and Prompto passed through the high cement walls, the air around them changed. Ignis inhaled and he could _taste_ the difference between what was but a moment ago cold and empty to what was now thick and stifling. Suddenly, a massive presence made the magic Ignis reached out with _quake_. All at once, Prompto shouted, the sound of distant blades being drawn echoed and a booming, deafening roar split the silence. Ignis didn’t need his useless eyes to see it. In his mind’s eye, he saw with perfect clarity the giant maw of a dread behemoth gape against the night sky, claws bared, wings outstretched, teeth ravenous and hungry for prey.


	2. Chapter 2

Gladio should have known something was wrong when Cindy was the first thing he saw as they pulled into Hammerhead.

She was standing next to his bike by the gas pumps, twirling a wrench around one finger impatiently, and looking like someone pissed in her motor oil. Ignis was really the only person he was interested in talking to after such a long time on the road but he was nowhere to be seen and Cindy was staring him down hardcore.

Gladio jumped off the back of the truck and dismissed his team to go get some rest, which was exactly what he’d be doing after he found out what Cindy wanted. He was tired down to his bones. They got the refugees to Lestallum and they hadn’t lost anyone, but the trip had been grueling. The detour they were forced to take was a slog of daemon slaying that seemed like it was never going to end. He’d have to ask Ignis to reroute the Lestallum runs. The terrain was changing rapidly and the vast swaths of country without any sort of light were becoming so overrun with hellspawn they were starting to spill out onto the highways.

He managed to take enough notes on his map to update the ‘map’ Iggy somehow kept in his head, pieced together from everyone’s reports. Ignis would surely be able to work out what the safest and quickest passes were so he wouldn’t have to be away so long next time. Gladio _hated_ being away for so long.

His steps dragged slowly over to Cindy. The weight of the sword and shield on his back was starting to get annoying. _If only it wasn’t so damn hard to summon them without Noct around._ Ignis’ ability to still use magic easily, even with so little of it left in the world, was nothing short of amazing. Gladio didn’t understand it, but he’d always known that everything about Ignis was amazing.

“Where’s Ignis?” He asked Cindy before she could speak up.

“He ain’t here.” She clipped out the words sharply. “He told me to tell you a bunch of details but all you need to know is him and Sunshine are up north in that old garrison. Sounded like your sister and the Marshal got into some trouble and there weren’t no other hunters around. I tuned up the old girl here and her tank’s full. Now git yer big ass on the road again and bring ‘em all back home safe and sound.” Cindy tossed him the keys to his motorcycle and then perched her hands on her hips. Gladio caught the keys, confused.

_Ignis...wasn’t here?_

He whipped his head around the parking lot. It was deserted. Ignis always knew when he was due back and always waited for him under the bright lights of the garage’s lamps. He was always the first person Gladio saw.

 _The garrison up north_?

“Iggy and Prompto... _went to Formouth?”_ Gladio didn’t want to say it out loud, lest it actually be true, but it came out anyway. “For my sister and Cor?” He was starting to raise his voice. The corners of his vision started turning white. His _chest_ started to hurt. “What…? _WHY_?” He was shouting now. He felt eyes on him, his crew, staring at him, gawking, but warily backing away. “Are you fucking _joking_? _Where the fuck is everyone?_ ”

“You heard me.” Cindy’s voice got louder too and she narrowed her eyes. “Save the shoutin’ for them daemons. _Now git_.” She pointed at his bike with finality. “Time’s a wastin’.”

Gladio didn’t remember getting on his bike and peeling away from the outpost. He didn’t even grab his helmet. The wind was biting and loud as it whooshed past his ears. If he passed any daemon’s on the road, he didn’t see them. The bright cone of his headlights stretched out in front of him but all he saw were deadly shadows. Iris and Cor were in trouble? _Not possible_. It was _Cor_. And Iris was never allowed on a hunt without himself or Cor. Iggy and Prompto went after them? No way. _No_ _fucking way_. It wasn’t Iggy’s job. They were training together again but he wasn’t ready, not for this...this _never fucking ending night,_ and certainly not without him _._ Gladio swore out loud into the wind. _All Prompto had to do was keep an eye on him._ That fucking kid never could stand up to Ignis.

_This was just like Ignis._

So fucking careful, except when it came to himself. So fucking smart, except when it came to understanding how important he was. So fucking cool except when his loved ones were threatened.

Fuck. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck!_

Gladio clenched his jaw and swallowed down every emotion but his rage. It was becoming second nature now. When Noct was with them, he had a young King to protect. There was no time for fear or regret. Now that their whole lives were nothing but waiting for their King, not much had changed. He still had daemons to kill. And no time for fear or regret.

He drove past two trucks at the bottom of the road to the garrison, recognizing them as having come from Hammerhead. With a skid and a jolt, he stopped and abandoned his bike right at the open gates. The first sound he heard after the wind in his ears and the rev of his engine was the shouting of familiar voices and a beastly roar.

He broke into a run, shield and sword in hand. His plan to storm through the gates, ready to swing first and ask questions later, did little for him. His forward charge turned into a brief retreat as a wall of flames blocked his path.

 _Ignis_.

A huge area of the garrison was momentarily engulfed in magical fire. Gladio had to lift his shield to fend off the heat. Ignis was the last of them capable of throwing out an attack like that.

 _He’s alive_.

The pain in Gladio’s chest retreated. He pulled down his shield only to draw it up again when the _biggest fucking behemoth_ he’d ever seen raised its paw and took an aggressive swing at him. He was able to dodge just in time to feel the deadly scrape of one claw drag sparks along the metal of his shield.

“Ignis! Prompto! There’s cover over here! Over here! Over here!”

 _Iris_. _She’s alive too._

Gladio’s breathing came easier. He saw Ignis and Prompto dash through the remaining burning embers dying on the pavement. Ignis was still shaking fire off his hands. Iris kept yelling so Ignis had a direction but Prompto was right there next to him. The shouting didn’t help the behemoth situation. With a howl and a flap if its wings the giant turned its attention to Iris. Gladio launched forward and drove his sword down on the monster’s blindside.

“Gladdy!” Iris shouted. Prompto fired off a cover shot before he and Ignis dove inside a small utility shed. The behemoth snapped its jaws right on their heels but focused on Iris again when she called out his name. She pulled her katana free but wasn’t as fast as Cor who came from the beast’s other blindside and slashed. Cor knelt and Iris took to the cue, jumping for him and letting Cor launch her up to swipe with her blade at the behemoth's face. The thing reared and screamed in pain. The few seconds were enough for Iris to land safely back on her feet. Cor grabbed her and they made for the shed. Gladio ran full tilt and ducked inside after them. He could almost feel the monster’s hot breath on his neck as he slammed the door shut behind him.

Ignis spoke before anyone else had caught their breath. “Is everyone inside? Iris, what happened?”

“We’re all here Iggy, Gladio too.” Prompto’s relief was palpable and Gladio saw the worried lines on Ignis’ forehead ease slightly. They’d been together a long time and Gladio didn’t need to hear Ignis say it to know that he was grateful he was there. And really, Ignis would never have admitted to it out loud anyway.

Iris helped ease Cor down to sit on the ground. The Marshal didn’t look good. His head was covered in blood, matting his hair and streaming down his face. His eyes were glassy and unfocused and his breathing was irregular. When he was settled, Iris finally answered.

“Pretty much the same thing that happened to you guys. We thought it was weird there weren’t any daemons or anything anywhere then as soon as we walked in, that behemoth attacked. It went wild and we scattered for cover. Everyone is holed up in different places. We’ve been trying to regroup, but every time we come out of cover we can’t get but few hits on it. We’re not making much of a dent and the Marshal’s hurt. He...he saved me Gladdy, I wasn’t fast enough. I used every potion I had...”

“You shouldn’t have _wasted_ them on me.” Cor swayed where he sat, barely able to keep his eyes open. He spoke past Iris. “I told her to _go_ , Gladio. She and the others...could have made a break for it. I could have...distracted the thing.” His words were slow and slurred. Anyone else wouldn’t have been able to manage the full on attack the Marshal had just made, but Gladio knew Cor the Immortal survived through what would kill other men mostly on guile. He hoped Cor’s cunning held out a little longer.

“You’re _hurt_!” Iris argued. “And you got hurt for _me_! We weren’t going to just leave you here.”

“You should have!” Cor fought back, then grabbed at his head, his face contorting in pain. “And why are the rest of you here? These aren’t the protocols.”

Ignis willfully ignored the Marshal’s question, just like he’d wilfully ignored his own protocols. “We have experience killing a beast like this before, with Noctis. It will be more difficult without him, but there are more of us. We’ll manage. Iris, you’ll need to help us, especially with the Marshal’s injury.”

“I’m fine. I can help.” Cor’s stubborn knew no limit.

Gladio interjected, leaving no more room for objections. “You’re out Marshal. Let us handle it. I’m not letting Cor the Immortal die on my watch.”

Cor grunted, but he didn’t protest any further. He let his eyes fall shut and he leaned back against a machine panel.

Ignis rattled off orders, _just like the old days_ , and Prompto nodded eagerly, a smile on his face. Gladio took a peek out of the small window to see the behemoth stalking back and forth, it’s breath puffing out and billowing in the cold air. More than anything Gladio wanted to park Ignis right next to Cor and take care of the damn monster himself, but he knew that was unrealistic. He had zero track record getting Iggy to listen to him. There was no reason to think it would suddenly start now and, without Noct, Ignis was the only one with enough magic left to make victory possible. Iris already said their blades had done nothing but annoy it.  

Prompto was first up. He shot out of the shed like lightning and shot a starshell straight up into the sky. He was able to get off two more bullseye shots before he had to duck back into cover across the way, behind a defunct spotlight tower.

Ignis followed up with actual lightning, electrifying the area and sending crackles of energy through the air and across the ground. The behemoth stiffened then tumbled sideways, opening itself up for an attack. Gladio and Iris went for it, Iris quicker, in then out in a flash. Gladio took his time and worked up as much strength into his blow as he could muster. The gash he cut across the thing’s belly was satisfying only for a moment before it righted itself and was back on the offensive.

The light and lightning drew out the rest of their people from cover. They darted around nipping at the beast’s heels where they could. The _crack crack crack_ of Prompto’s shots rang out from every direction. Gladio was able to get in a few more low blows and help Iris get in a few more high ones when Ignis shouted out another order.

“Gladio _move_.”

Unlike his partner, Gladio _always_ did what Ignis asked. Iris rolled in one direction and he rolled in the other, right before another fire ball landed square on the behemoth. The sound of the explosion drowned out the wounded roar, but Gladio knew they were gaining the upper hand. When the flames died down, Ignis barked out more orders and they executed another round of attacks.

It was a frenzy of fighting and pumping adrenaline. Gladio’s earlier fatigue had dissipated. He felt energized, but not only from the action. Everything just felt _right_. It felt right in a way things hadn’t felt right in a long time. He was with his friends, _his_ _family_ , he was with Ignis, working as a team again. It didn’t matter that a _dread fucking behemoth_ was up their ass, they could take it down, because they were together. Each swing of his sword was met with a gunshot from Prompto and an elemental onslaught from Ignis. Iris was nearby, and though she moved like Cor she was an Amicitia through and through, charging right into the thick of the battle. The blood in his veins practically sang in synchrony with all of theirs.

Gladio felled the beast again, and they all swarmed, cutting into it everywhere mercilessly, until it picked itself up. Prompto tried to get in one last point blank shot, but this time he wasn’t quick enough to duck back into cover and he took a dead on kick from the beast’s back legs that threw him ten feet at least. The kid yelled from the air, grunted when he fell, then groaned as he lay motionless in a heap on the ground.

“Prompto!” Ignis shouted. Then he ran towards him.

_Never careful when he should be. Never hesitant when his friends needed him._

Gladio swore a mean streak and vaulted over the behemoth’s tail to get to them. He saw Ignis stumble once, then find his footing again, then miraculously skid and dodge a sharp-clawed swing. He got to Prompto before Gladio could get to either of them, pulling out and breaking into a potion. The behemoth charged them then but Ignis must have sensed it and he was able to drag Prompto to his feet. They both stumbled back behind cover again at the spotlight tower but, instead of turning it’s attention away, the crazed monster rammed the tower. It rocked backwards after the impact, temporarily stunned, but it quickly recovered and squared up to charge again. Gladio was able to knock it off course, striking one of it’s legs with his shield before he stepped back, swung wide and sheared the leg almost clean off.

The beast cried out it’s death knell, but it was still determined to take someone with it. Or two people. It madly flailed, a mess of teeth and claws. Everyone tried to stay out of it’s way now, and Gladio saw Iris pick a direction and run. As fast as she was, luck wasn’t with her today and the thing whipped its head around to try and take a dying bite out of her. Again, Gladio swore and charged, but Cor was there before he could even draw back his sword for a blow.

_Another one who doesn’t listen._

Cor slashed his blade right across the behemoth’s throat. A final roar, a final shudder and the thing was finally spent, but even in death they weren’t safe. When it fell for the last time, it’s massive weight collapsed against the tower where Ignis and Prompto were still taking cover. The structure creaked and groaned and, almost in slow motion, it started to collapse. Cor tried to get there, but he almost immediately stumbled and fell, his head injury finally getting the better of him. Iris had to catch him before he went down completely.

All Gladio saw was falling steel. He couldn’t see if Iggy and Prompto had cleared out and made it to a safe distance. There was nothing he could do but drop his weapons and run. He hurdled the mutilated behemoth corpse and saw Ignis shove Prompto blindly forward, away from the clatter of a tumbling beam, but he wasn’t able to get himself away quickly enough.

Gladio’s chest clenched and his gut dropped. He shouted, skidded and slid across blood slicked pavement to where Ignis was. He got there just in time to grab him and toss him after Prompto. And then he had just enough time to duck and brace himself as the beam landed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ignis stumbled and fell on his hands and knees after Gladio tossed him out of the way. He heard a crash of steel meeting pavement and a sickening thud of impact on flesh that made his blood run cold.

“Gladio!” He reached out and down, scrambling back in the direction he came from. Prompto grabbed his arm from behind and pulled him forward to where Gladio was.

“Here! He’s here! There’s a beam that landed on his leg, he’s pinned. Help me get it off!” Prompto grabbed both of his hands and put them on the beam for him. Ignis gripped the metal and heaved with all his might. Prompto strained beside him. Gladio stifled a moan.

They exhausted themselves, inhaled deeply and then tried again, pushing hard, harder, still to no avail. Voices came up behind them and more hands piled on. Ignis didn’t know how many of them there were but it took another two tries to move the beam. When finally it gave way under their efforts, Ignis heard Iris through his own heartbeat pounding rapidly in his ears.

“I got ya, Gladdy!” The slight girl growled, _so much like her brother_ , and it sounded as if she dragged him free from the debris.

“Okay okay, he’s out, let it go!” Prompto counted down from three and they all released their hold and jumped back to avoid the steel as it fell to the ground.

“Rrrggghh.” Gladio stirred with a frustrated noise. “Iggy, you alright?”

Ignis followed his voice and knelt beside him, next to Iris. Still panting, he swallowed down his relief before it threatened to overwhelm him. “Why are you asking me how _I_ am? How badly are you hurt? Where?”

“Right leg. It’s gotta be broken.” Ignis knew Gladio was speaking through pursed lips and clenched teeth, biting back pain. “I can try and walk though, we gotta get Cor back to Hammerhead.” He tried to sit up, but Iris pushed him back down.

“You’re not walking anywhere on that leg Gladdy.” Iris gave out the orders next, sending half their crew with the Marshal, instructing them to take one of the trucks and drive as fast as possible back to Hammerhead. The rest of them, with great effort, carried Gladio back to the other truck along with one of the generators they originally came to retrieve. Ignis settled beside Gladio in the back of the truck where they’d sprawled him out. Prompto took the wheel of their vehicle and Iris, ignoring Gladio’s protests, drove his motorcycle.

They were both silent the whole ride back. Horribly, achingly silent. Ignis knelt beside Gladio’s shoulder. He wanted to touch him. He could feel the other man’s heat, smell the leather and motorcycle exhaust on him. But something stopped him from reaching out and touching.

Ignis felt _guilty_. It sat in his stomach like a rock, impossible to ignore. Cor was gravely wounded. Gladio was hurt. _The man he loved was hurt._ But Ignis couldn’t bring himself to regret what just happened. _He felt alive_. More alive and more capable than he had since Altissia. It felt so _right_ fighting again. Fighting beside Gladio and his friends. But at what cost?

He was silent, at a loss for words, torn between his elation and the crushing culpability of his lover lying beside him, in pain, injured, all because of his careless, reckless, actions. He’d convinced himself he had no choice. Was it true? Or had his unconscious desires simply found a way to force their agenda and take back some of what he’d lost, some of his old relevance, his old contributions, in a more physical sense.

Without actually putting it to the forefront of his thoughts, he’d worried endlessly since he lost his vision that if it came to it, he would have to be the one left behind. Nothing he’d ever done in his life had been harder than asking Noctis if he could still be by his side, by all their sides. But he’d done it because he knew he had to. That Noct dismissed his worries without so much as a pause for consideration made him both happy and sad that he would always be their group’s limiting factor. And now they had no Prince, no King, to validate his presence in any official capacity.

In a broader sense, Ignis had known all along that, without Noctis, it would be all too easy for their small party to drift apart. They were spread thin, and no amount of love or friendship could justify locking themselves up together to wait out the night and ignore the needs of the Kingdom. It was selfish.

_Just like his actions today._

Admitting to the thought shamed him, but there was no sense denying it. He wished Gladio would yell at him, rage and shout, it would be better, more like him, more like _them_ , if he did. It would be better than this eerie uncertain silence.

“Stop thinking, Ignis.” Gladio broke the awkward hush with an order. The words sounded tired but forceful.

Ignis cleared his throat. “What?”

“Just stop. You’re makin’ my head hurt worse than my leg.”

“ _My_ thinking is hurting _your_ head?” Ignis relaxed. His tense shoulders dropped.

“Yeah. So save it. We’ll talk when we get back. Or you’ll talk and I’ll yell. _Because there’s gonna be yelling Iggy_.”

Ignis smiled to himself, small but more at ease. The weight of his thoughts were no less, but the burden was always lighter when Gladio’s voice cut through the din of them.

“Now hold my hand or somethin’ will ya?” Gladio found his hand and laced their fingers together. Ignis squeezed back tightly.

“Hey Ignis.”

“Yes?”

“I _missed_ you.”

Ignis didn’t even care that his voice cracked with emotion. It was only Gladio who would hear. “And I you, love.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It may not seem like it yet, but there is actually a point to this installment in the series. It’s a massively fluffy important point for their relationship that somehow I needed to get to by wading through angst first. Hopefully I’ll get there in some coherent fashion. Well, as coherent as my flailing over these two gets. Thanks for reading!

Gladio clenched at Ignis’ hand and hissed with each bump the truck rolled over on the road and each too quick turn Prompto took. By the time they reached Hammerhead, the pangs of sympathy pain weighed heavy on Ignis’ heart, but Gladio hadn’t complained a word.

Cindy called out when they pulled in. “Hey y’all! Glad everyone made it back. Knew ya would. The doc’s with the Marshal now, but soon as I see her I’ll send her your way, okay?”

With Prompto and Iris’ help, Ignis managed to guide Gladio back to their caravan. Fortunately they didn’t have far to go as it was the first in the rows of temporary housing that served the outpost’s permanent crew.

Both Iris and Prompto sat with them while they waited for the doctor. Ignis was grateful they stayed, not only for the help in getting Gladio cleaned up and situated in bed but also because it gave him more time to consider things before their inevitable difficult conversation.

Ignis played out different scenarios in his head as to how their argument might go while Iris and Prompto fussed. If Gladio challenged his decisions, Ignis had no leg to stand on, pun intended. They could not afford to court such danger, as they had today, in the future. There was no way to know how long it would be before Noctis returned to them. All their efforts, the efforts of everyone going back to Lady Lunafreya, King Regis, Master Clarus and the countless who had sacrificed so much, would be for naught if the Chosen King returned to find nothing of his lands but barren waste and nothing of his people but corpses.

As for the personal repercussions, if Gladio questioned his wisdom in putting himself at risk he couldn’t play dumb or deny the hypocrisy of it. Ignis knew every _godsdamned_ risk, had thought through every outcome good and bad. He incessantly badgered all of them, and Gladio in particular, about the vital importance of coming home _safe_.

Perhaps he was just sick of begging them to be careful and waiting hopefully behind. He knew enough about himself to know he was a front line general and the more time he spent at the rear the more agitated it made him.

Prompto cut through Ignis’ stray musings with an attempt to redirect their collective mood and calm their still twitchy nerves.

“Hey big guy, that leg might have been the only part of you that didn’t have a scar. Were you aiming to fix that?”

Gladio chuckled. “Whatever, I’m still better lookin’ than you, chocobo ass.”

“Ugh.” Iris grunted and Ignis could imagine the eye roll that accompanied it.

“Gods I’m starving. Hey Iris how ‘bout you cook me something to make up for makin’ me come after your sorry behind before I even had a chance to eat.”

Iris let her annoyance pass and happily replied. “I’ll make you anything you want Gladdy, just name it! Ignis taught me a bunch more of his recipes while you were gone.”

“You should probably wait to eat until the doctor sees you.” Ignis hated to make him wait, but it was only prudent. “In the meantime, I already directed your crew to secure the garrison before it re-populates with daemons. Dave is coming to fetch the generator we brought back with us to take to Longwythe. And hopefully, we can light up Formouth long enough to sweep the place for useful supplies and butcher the behemoth carcass.”

“If I get a behemoth steak out of this it was worth it.”

“Seconded!” Prompto said.

Bolstering their food reserves was all well and good but Ignis would have to consider if they could hold the garrison for any length of time beyond a short looting run. He’d been so focused on simply not losing anymore ground to the darkness, he hadn’t devoted much attention to making actual gains.

 _Gods_ there was so much to be done. And yet all he wanted to do was lay beside Gladio alone and talk about things not quite so bleak.

Ignis pushed up his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. It was a pointless gesture. His eyes were _dead_ , they were far past being weary enough to rub. It was just habit. Ridiculous habit. He wasn’t even entirely sure why he wore glasses at all anymore. At first it was for physical protection as his wounds healed. After that, it was to protect his psyche. He couldn’t _stand_ hearing the pity ridden shock in people’s voices when they saw his scars, especially those who'd known him before. Covering them, though he knew it was incomplete, dulled the reactions he got enough for him to bear it. And now? What was he protecting? His vanity? There was only one person whose opinion he cared enough about in that regard.

Yet, in the times they were alone, Gladio always insisted he remove them. ‘ _They’ll make your face sore’_ he said in the beginning. Equally ridiculous. He’d never insisted Ignis remove his glasses before he was injured. And then, one night, Gladio took them off his face himself and cupped his cheeks in his large hands. Before Ignis could ask why, he answered.

_“Because I don’t hide my scars from you.”_

And it was true. Gladio hid nothing of himself. His honesty was absolute. As easy for him as _breathing_. Ignis could make even breathing complicated if he thought about it too much. It was likely that was how their next conversation would go. Ignis would overthink it as usual, but ultimately, Gladio would be honest. He would shout his disapproval, be open about his worries, and then whisper his love. Gladio hid nothing, whether it be on instinct, on principle, or simply because he knew no other way.

That was where Ignis always stumbled. He needed to be truthful about all the things he wanted to say but he also needed to be truthful about the things he never said.

It was not often in his life when he _wasn’t_ holding something back from open discourse. When he was very young, it was easy. Practically the first thing he remembered learning about interactions with others was that if he acted _too_ much like himself, it unsettled people. He was quick to find faults and even quicker to offer solutions to them. Something no one particularly wants to hear from a child. As he grew older, and less concerned with conformity, he held back less, but there was still always something he kept inside. Sometimes it was to preserve the egos of others. Sometimes it was to preserve his own.

Ignis saw Gladio’s constant coaxing about the glasses for what it was. A bid to share all their scars. They’d been together _years_ now. And Gladio was still steadfastly chipping away at his formidable walls.

Ignis' head was spinning with circular ruminations by the time the doctor knocked on the door of the caravan. She was opened it and walked in even before she stopped pounding on it. The doctor announced her presence in her typical fashion.

“This better be good Amicitia. There’s a real soldier with a real injury I left to come here and tend to whatever papercut you think warrants my attention.”

Iris and Prompto both stifled a giggle. Gladio swore under his breath.

What remained of the physicians from Insomnia had organized and in the time since the fall of the capital they formed an infrastructure of medical care at the outposts and hunter bases. Stationed at Hammerhead was the Crownsguard physician who often volunteered to serve in the field with the Kingsglaive. Her wartime medical skill was invaluable. She was also the only physician left who could use the King’s magic to heal. The extent of her powers was as limited as the rest of their magic was these days but she made the best of it. They were lucky to have her.

Although Ignis knew Gladio would not have professed feeling such luck. For some reason the woman was always hard on him. Harder than she was on the others, which was saying something. But when Gladio would complain, Iris would wave him off and say she reminded her of their father.

“Will the Marshal be alright, Doctor?” Ignis had no problem whatsoever with the doctor’s bedside manner. She was smart and efficient and they worked well together.

“He won’t be surrendering his Immortal status anytime soon, but I’m not letting him leave Hammerhead for a while, so you’ll need to take him out of the hunt rotation. We can discuss it later. After I kiss this one’s boo-boos better.”

“A steel beam fell on my leg! That ain’t enough for you?”

The doctor just humphed and then it was quiet as she worked. She humphed again after she made her initial assessment. “This is what I rushed over here for? There aren’t even any bones sticking out. I can set it for you, and an elixir will take care of the soft tissue damage, but you’ll be out of the rotation for a while too until it fuses.” Ignis felt the astringent sting of healing magic fill the small space of the caravan. After a few minutes the initial sharpness of it mellowed into a soothing hum. When she was finished, she spoke again to Gladio. “There you go. Not exactly good as new, but it’ll get there. I have to get back to Cor but I’ll check in later.”

They all offered up their thank yous and just before she left them she offered up her own parting comment. “I hate to see any of our people come back to base like you all did today, but I will say that Clarus would have been proud. Now get some rest.”

Prompto and Iris followed the doctor's orders and left Gladio to rest. Ignis asked Prompto to help with the salvage job and he asked Iris to keep an eye on Cor. The door had barely shut behind them when Gladio started in on him.

“I bet you already had this whole conversation in your head while we were waiting for the doc, didn’t you?”

“If I did, then does that mean we don’t actually have to have it?” Ignis sat at the foot of the bed and tried to picture exactly how frustrated Gladio looked at his flippant reply.

“Look Ignis, I’m hungry and tired and I fucking missed you more while I was gone than I miss the damn sunlight, so I’m gonna get straight to the point and I’m only gonna say this shit once, okay?”

Ignis held his breath while Gladio spoke, just happy to hear his voice and not wanting to mar the sound of it with anything. There was a long pause though before he continued.

“I know we have to be apart sometimes with the way things are and I trust you, I really do, but…” His voice faltered for a moment and he had to clear his throat. When he spoke again it was rough like gravel.

“I wasn’t there when my dad died, I wasn’t there when Noct got sucked into the damn Crystal. I wasn’t there when you got hurt in Altissia…”

“Gladio, please…” Ignis clenched his fists into the bedsheets and shifted uncomfortably where he sat. They’d long ago decided never to dwell on the past. It was pointless, unproductive, _dangerous_. “You were always where it was _your_ _duty_ to be.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been thinking a lot about that too ‘cuz I had nothing better to think about trying to fall asleep without you next to me at every damn haven from here to Lestallum. I decided the duty my dad and King Regis gave us is outdated.”

 _“Outdated?”_ Ignis repeated, but Gladio didn’t stop to let him argue.

“Our King is Noctis now. He has been for a long time even if he isn’t physically here. I know it’s important to look after Lucis and it’s people but Noct would want us to stick together and look after each other too. So you know what, there’s a lot of people who come first in my book without Noct around. If Cor needs me, I’m there. If Prompto does something dumb, I’m on it. If Iris is in trouble, I just don’t give a damn how many refugees need herded towards the light, she takes priority. And then there’s you, Ignis.” Gladio nudged at him with his good leg as if to make sure he was listening, though they both knew he was doing nothing but.

“I couldn’t stop what happened with Leviathan Iggy but I’ll be damned if I let anything short of a fucking god hurt you ever again.”

Ignis rubbed at his eyes once more, not trusting himself to speak. The sheets rustled behind him and Gladio sat up to grab his arm away. He couldn’t haul Ignis closer, as he might have done if he wasn’t injured but he tugged insistently enough that Ignis gave in and repositioned himself beside him. They faced each other and Gladio reached out to pluck his glasses off his face.

A calloused thumb traced the edges of his scars and then across his cheekbones and down his jaw. “I’m a _shield_ , Ignis. It’s what I am and who I am and who I want to be. So don’t try and keep me from being that for you.” Gladio’s thumb traced over his lips and then his hand slid behind his neck to bring him down into a kiss.

Ignis wanted it to be hard and rough and deep, deep enough to drown in, but Gladio held himself back, withholding any opportunity for Ignis to avoid what would come next. The kiss was soft, all too fleeting and ended with a challenge.

“Now are you gonna be honest with me?”

Ignis grit his teeth and pulled away. Gladio wanted to see his scars. He would show them. “I need more than this, Gladio.”

“More than what?”

“More than sitting here and being something for you to shield.”

Gladio had no reply to that. Ignis bit his tongue, and chastised himself internally for being so acerbic so quickly. But honesty was what the man had asked for.

“We were lucky today, but I still feel _terrible_ about it. You know very well, I would sooner have broken my own legs if given the choice…”

“Hell, Iggy, that’s not your…”

“I let you speak your mind. Please let me finish.”

Gladio retreated into tense silence and Ignis continued.

“I would have done anything to prevent you from getting hurt, you know this, but I do not regret my actions today. This is the first time, in a very long time, that I’ve felt…” _Say it. Just say it._ “...normal.”

Ignis was not usually one to have problems articulating exactly what he wanted to convey, but there were some things that he simply never wanted to articulate in the first place. Somewhere in the back of his head, he felt another one of his walls crumbling.

“I should be fighting beside all of you. It’s where I belong. It’s where I want to be. As much as you need to be a shield, I need to be...to be…” His words failed him but he kept talking. “You know more than anyone what I was to Noctis. It is what _I_ am, _who I am_ and who _I_ want to be. I realize, obviously, that I can’t be or do everything I used to in the same way I used to but this, what I am now, it isn’t enough.”

Gladio’s silence reached its limit. “Ignis, you do fucking everything for us! Lucis is only still _alive_ because of what you do every godsdamned day, _Ifrit’s ass_ , you do enough!”

“It may be enough for Lucis. It isn’t enough for me. And when Noctis returns it won’t be enough for the Chosen King. I don’t care what it takes, and I’ll need your help, but I need to _do_ things again, Gladio...”

 _And not just sit here and_ think _._ Ignis didn’t say it, but he hoped, he prayed, that Gladio would understand. If all he had was  _this_ , his own thoughts would eat him alive sooner than the daemons or the darkness.

Regis had not chosen him for Noctis because of any aptitude he had for scholarly pursuits. Anyone could memorize any number of facts that meant nothing and was no help to anyone if the wielder of that knowledge couldn’t _use_ it. Why raise them together, why train him to fight, why leave Noctis in his care? If Gladio was a shield, then Ignis was meant to be a sword.

There was a soft thud as Gladio fell back against his pillow. “Ah... _fuck_ , Iggy.”

Something in the tone of the expletive gave Ignis hope, if that even made any sense. It was strange how he’d learned to interpret the subtleties of even Gladio’s curses. Then again, perhaps it wasn’t strange at all. Perhaps it made perfect sense. The two of them had always made a strange sort of perfect sense.

“When I said I missed you, in the truck, on the way back here, I didn’t just mean I ‘missed’ you. I did. But I also meant I missed _you_.” Another curse and another subtle meaning. “Ah, fuck me, Iggy, fighting again with you back there, with all of us together, I’ve never fucking missed anything so much. I dunno how to make this work, and maybe you’re just gonna need to tell me how to make it work and I’ll have to get over myself, but _fuck_ I _really_ _need_ that feeling again.”

“That feeling?” Ignis’ heartbeat started to quicken. Everything was wrong. Everything in their starscourged world was wrong. But suddenly it felt like they were clawing their way back to some kind of right path.

“It felt like...it felt like... _home_.”

He didn’t mean the Citadel or Insomnia, or any set of walls or chunk of rock upon which to rest their heads. Home for them had always been their duty, their King, and each other.

They just had to somehow find their way back there in the dark.


	4. Chapter 4

A day ago, Gladio’s options for keeping Ignis safe were few. He could be right there with him or he could make sure Ignis stayed put with one of their friends keeping an eye on him when he was gone. After their _conversation_ , those options were reduced to one. Ignis wanted to play a more active role, like he used to. So, Gladio’s one remaining option was to simply stay right there with him all of the time, wherever he was. If it meant that Ignis would feel better about himself, Gladio would happily break a bone every day of his life to make it happen.

But of course, _of fucking course_ , his few options, that were whittled down to one, was now effectively, _none_. Ignis was leaving. And Gladio was stuck at Hammerhead with a broken leg.

He and the Marshal were both leaned up against the garage, watching helplessly as Ignis supervised a small crew loading up a truck with supplies and weapons.

Soon after the behemoth was cleared out of Formouth, Prompto and Cindy scoured the place and reported back that a lot of the Nif equipment there would be useful, but most of it couldn’t be moved to Hammerhead. It was just the nudge Ignis needed to work out a plan to take control of the garrison.

The prairie outpost was proving too remote and too small to risk keeping it up and running. Daemons were pouring out of Keycatrich like a flood and it was looking like they’d be forced to surrender the Trench to the darkness. If they could hold onto Formouth, though, they could move the prairie operation there and at least not feel like they’d suffered a loss.

Gladio had tried, _mightily tried,_ to talk Ignis out of going himself. Prompto could have explained the layout and situation in detail and Ignis could have worked out in his head the logistics needed to secure the place and keep the lights on. But this time, Ignis wasn’t having it. He argued right back, insisting it was too important to not have a direct hand in assuring their success. This wasn’t about maintaining the status quo, they were trying to plant a flag.

Gladio was a soldier. No one had to explain to him the importance of gaining ground in a war. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to advance their front line, but attempting anything big with he and Cor out of commission was just...just…

“This is _bullshit_.” Cor managed to summarize his thoughts in three words.

Gladio grumbled in agreement. “The doc can’t force us to stay here.”

“Don’t be stupid. You’re still on crutches.”

“I don’t need ‘em. It’s not that bad.”

“More bullshit. Your blind boyfriend had to help you walk out here this morning.”

_Low blow, old man. Low blow._

“Oh yeah? This from the guy who got his sword taken away from him by a little girl.”

Iris was still pretty good at making her weapons appear and disappear with magic, and knowing Cor would resist any attempts at keeping him back from the fighting, she’d taken his blades and whisked them away out of his reach until the doctor cleared him to return to duty.

Cor turned his head to look at Gladio directly and offered a thin-lipped snarl in reply. “ _You_ were more of a little girl at her age than she is now.”

Gladio had another smartass comeback perched on his tongue but Ignis, _who was standing fucking thirty feet away at least_ , interrupted and yelled at them.

“It might behoove you two gentleman to find something more productive to do with your convalescent time than exchange juvenile barbs.”

“He fucking hears everything now…” Gladio hissed under his breath.

Cor chuckled darkly, but then thought it better to just walk away. Ignis came over to take his place. He stood with authority and folded his arms across his chest, appearing like he was ‘watching’ the supplies being loaded up from behind his dark glasses.

_Gladio hated those fucking glasses._

He’d never said that out loud but he always tried to get Ignis to take them off whenever they were alone. Gladio could look at the scars on his lover’s eyes with unflinching devotion but somehow seeing those opaque glasses, that were nothing like the ones Ignis used to wear, made Gladio angry. Scars he could accept, scars were a fact of life, a fact of war. Gladio showed his with pride and he’d always loved how Ignis never winced at them, never fussed over them, he just accepted them. Gladio was ready and willing to accept the scars Ignis wore. He never wanted anything more than to show Ignis how _much_ he loved him no matter what. He’d even said exactly that on more than one occasion but Ignis waved him off and made wry jokes about how hopeless and romantic he was like it was some kind of disease. Ignis was skilled in a lot of things and first among them was how to retreat behind emotional walls. Those damn glasses were just another wall and Gladio hated being shut out on the wrong side.

Ignis had always been the type of person who needed to repeatedly prove himself. Not only that, he needed to prove himself _superior_. To King Regis, to Noctis, _though the little shit couldn’t be bothered to notice,_ even to Gladio’s own father, _who Gladio was convinced had considered Ignis his favorite son._

Maybe Ignis and his overactive brain never quite saw the line between overachieving and overkill, or maybe he did and didn’t care. Either way, Gladio wished he would stop trying to be everything for everyone all by himself. Gladio wanted him to remember they were still in this together, like they had been from day one and they always would be no matter what. Even if he was blind, even if he wasn’t fighting beside them all, Ignis was no less a part of Gladio’s whole _fucking_ world than his own beating heart.

But trying to tell him that was about as hopeless as waiting for the sun to rise.

Gladio was getting ready to start bitching about all those things out loud and about being left behind for the millionth time when Ignis spoke up first.

“Would it be too much to ask for you to go back to bed and rest?”

“Maybe if you come with me, I’d consider it.” Gladio smiled and even though Ignis couldn’t see it, he knew the other man could hear it in his voice. He deflated a little when Ignis just scoffed. His smile melted quickly away. “You’re one to make demands, Iggy. When was the last time _you_ rested?”

The response he got was terse at best. “Rest is for the dead. I’m not dead yet.”

Ignis’ cold calmness about his self-neglect just made Gladio more angry. “Well, I’m not dead yet either! Fuck, Iggy, just wait a couple days, let Dave and Prompto go, and then when I’m back to full force we’ll join them. Together. Like we should be. You don’t have to fucking do _everything_.”

Still infuriatingly calm, Ignis continued to push his agenda. “It’s going to take more than a couple of days for that leg to fully mend and we can’t wait that long. We need to get the prarie crew moved and settled and have Formouth lit up and operational before the daemons have a chance to move back in. We’ve had this discussion already.”

Gladio thought he wanted to have a lot more discussion about a lot of things, but somehow the specifics all jumbled together in his head and came out of his mouth as a frustrated, inept complaint. “I just... _fuck_...I just don’t like sitting here doing _nothing_ while you go off in the dark and risk getting hurt.”

“I’m always in the dark Gladio. And speaking from experience, sitting back and doing nothing while others go off into danger leaves one with a great deal of time to _think._ You might use that time to come to terms with the fact that _I’m_ done being the only one sitting back and doing nothing but thinking.”

Ignis walked away without another word.

Gladio was no stranger to his sharp tongue but that outburst was _gutting_ and even if Ignis had let him reply, there was nothing he could have said to justify more argument.

Gladio watched as Ignis went about his preparations. He couldn’t bring himself to go back to bed and rest as he’d been asked so he just continued to stand there leaning on his crutches and watching the reality of their new world move past him.

The lights overhead were garish and stark against the black beyond the outpost. The once vibrant colors of Lucis were muted down to nothing but grey. Gladio not only saw the dull color but felt it inside him. It felt like stagnant air and distance.

When Prompto wandered over and stood next to him, Gladio only had one thing to say.

“Keep an eye on him, will ya’?”

“I’ll keep both eyes on him, big guy, just like always.” Prompto gave Gladio a wink and a smile along with his promise.

“Sorry I keep asking.” He was sorry, but not enough to stop.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I like it actually.” Prompto kicked the toe of his boot at a crack in the pavement and deliberately looked everywhere but directly at Gladio. “When, uh, when we still had Noct, Ignis always used to let me keep an eye on him when you two weren’t around. At first I couldn’t believe he trusted me and he probably didn’t because he texted me every five minutes to check in but after a while he just waited until I texted him and then he thanked me for doing a good job. He’s not really one for praise, ya know? Everytime he said it I felt like I won the lottery. And I felt like I was helping out Noct, like an actual Crownsguard even before I got the duds and the gun. It meant a lot.”

“Yeah well, if it makes you feel any better I’m still waiting for Ignis to praise _me_ for something.”

Prompto laughed, but Gladio hadn’t really been joking. They both stood for a while longer in silence until Gladio couldn’t keep from thinking aloud.

“I keep trying to tell him the three of us are gonna have to stick together no matter what until Noct comes back, that Noct would want us to make each other a priority, but I don’t know, Iggy was always the one who worried about the bigger picture. He was actually supposed to be the one who knew how to run the fucking Kingdom because no way Noctis was gonna be able to do it by himself. I just wish…”

“You wish he’d let the world go fuck itself?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

“Sometimes I wish Noct woulda just let the world go fuck itself.”

And there it was. Some guardians of Lucis they were. When Gladio asked himself if Ignis would have said the same thing, the answer was, of course, _no._

Gladio sighed. “Ah fuck, this isn’t going anywhere. I’m sorry I started talking about it.”

Prompto shrugged. “Better out than in big guy. For what it’s worth though, you two aren’t ever getting rid of me.”

Gladio would never admit it to the kid, but hearing that made him feel better. None of them knew what their next moments would hold but it was reassuring to speak their bonds out loud. The world might try its best to break those bonds but it felt good to know that if they broke, it wouldn’t be because they’d given up and let it happen.

After that, Prompto waved his goodbye and climbed into the truck that was ready to depart. Ignis came over to him again.

They’d been together long enough that no matter how irritated they were with each other, cold shoulders and silent treatments were well beneath them. It was comforting when Ignis kissed him, if only for the physical closeness of it, but their lips were heavy, too heavy with too many unspoken doubts and fears for either of them to enjoy it. With a whispered _I love you_ and a plea of _be_ _safe_ , they parted ways.

As he watched the truck pull away, Gladio couldn’t remember ever feeling more like a broken shield.

“Feelin’ sorry for yourself, Gladdy?” Iris poked his arm. She’d snuck up on him. “Because you should really feel sorry for me having to stay behind with you and the grumpy Marshal.”

“You used to beg me to spend time with you.” It would be the icing on his miserable fucking cake if even Iris didn’t need him for anything now.

“Well, I don’t have to ask anymore, I can just _make_ you spend time with me. Ignis said so. Come on, I’ll cook you some lunch ‘kay?”

“Yeah okay.” _What the hell else did he have to do?_

“Leave the crutches. We gotta get you back on your feet quick, just hang onto me and we’ll see how you do.”

Gladio left the crutches behind and let Iris take some of his weight as they walked to his caravan.

He eased himself down into the bed while she busied herself with the meal prep. She chatted while she cooked.

“Ignis also said I could cook you whatever you wanted, but I’m dying for his ramen recipe with some of that behemoth meat we got. Stuff tastes better when you help kill it yourself.”

Gladio’s chest filled with pride at his sister’s bloodthirsty streak. “No arguments here.”

“So are you and Ignis fighting or just...cranky?”

“Just cranky...I guess?”

“You don’t sound so sure.” Iris stopped chopping and looked over at him. “Did you say something dumb?”

“What? No!”

Iris stared at him intently but then seemed to take him at his word and resumed chopping. “Ignis’ll be fine Gladdy.” She crooned indulgently. “He’s been wanting to be more independent, and he can be, but he’ll always need you, so don’t worry so much, okay?”

Gladio didn’t want to think that he and Ignis would ever actually drift apart in a permanent way, but he also never thought he’d be a Shield without a King. The fucked up world they lived in had a way of fucking with them at every godsdamned turn.

Hearing both Iris and Prompto affirm that they were all bound by more than circumstance made _sense_ and made things a little less dark in Gladio’s head. Maybe he was just looking for reassurances when there were none but after everything they’d been through he could certainly call Prompto as much his brother as Iris was his sister. Noctis was even more to him, some amalgamation of brother, son and friend. And Ignis. Ignis was more than all those things. Ignis was everything to him.

Back at the beginning of their journey, the loss of King Regis had stung right through him, but he’d been expecting it. His father had prepared him for that. The loss of his father had _burned_ him down to his core, but he bore it silently, he’d had to, and now it was nothing but a distant heat of fond memory and admiration. He’d been prepared for that as well. The loss of Noctis left him shaken and teetering in a limbo of not quite mourning. Hopeful and vigilant but laced with a helpless anxiety that _he_ should be the one to bear his King’s burden.

Losing Ignis…

If he lost Ignis now it would be the end of him.

He hadn’t realized Iris had finished cooking until she set a steaming bowl on his chest. He scooted up to eat and she sat at the foot of the bed already slurping noodles into her mouth.

“It’s hard on Ignis when you’re not around, even if he doesn’t say it.”

Gladio shrugged. “It’s hard on both of us.”

“It’ll be nice if you two can be together all the time again.”

“Tell _him_ that.”

“I tried to but he’s still super dense when it comes to love sometimes.”

Gladio felt the need to repeat himself. “ _Tell him that.”_

“Until Noct gets back maybe you two need something just for you, ya know? Something official so everyone knows you aren’t just sticking together waiting for him. I mean, _we_ all know that, but it can be important sometimes for everyone to know it. Even people who might not know you well.”

“Iris, you’re rambling. What are you talking about?”

“Uggghhh jeez Gladdy! You used to be better at this kinda thing! I only had to help you a little before with stuff like this. Listen. You and Ignis have been together a long time. I think things are hard around here right now and they’re probably only going to get harder. So maybe you should think about doing something big to show the world, and each other, that you’re important to one another and that you’re not going to let anything come between you. Like a _fairy tale,_ you know?”

Shit. _Shit._

Gladio almost dropped his bowl. Iris, _Shiva bless Iris,_ had hit on _exactly_ what was swirling around at the periphery of his troubled thoughts all day, all yesterday, all of the _godsdamned_ night since darkness had fallen. What in the hell were they waiting for? What in the hell had _he_ been waiting for? It might mean nothing in the grand scheme of things. It might be only words and couple signatures that would fade into nothing over time, but it would mean something to them.

“Iris, you’re the _fucking_ best.”

“Yeah, I know. So how are we gonna do this?”

“We? What you mean ‘we’?”

“Hey, I helped you get him to date you didn’t I? It’s only fair I help you figure how to get him to marry you.”


	5. Chapter 5

Ignis clutched his phone in trembling fingers. He’d managed to keep from shaking on the ride from the prairie outpost and he let Prompto lead him straight to the barracks they’d started using at Formouth. He’d feigned calmness and insisted he was fine, that he’d much improved and just wanted to rest for a moment. Prompto reluctantly allowed himself to be shooed away promising to stand guard right outside for a little while so no one bothered him with nagging questions.

Ignis had been right. It was much more efficient being present on site at the garrison rather than having to interpret second hand information and relay orders through intermediaries. They had Formouth secured in short order and he’d gone with the hunters to help evacuate the crew at Prairie. They made three successful runs for personnel and equipment and Ignis wanted to make one more pass through the place to assure they’d collected everything that could be of use. Cor and the hunters had acquired quite a few artifacts from around the ancient royal tombs that they’d been storing at the Prairie outpost for study. It was a treasure trove of information that Ignis had been eager to get his hands on.

He and Prompto had made quick work of their last sweep and were getting ready to drive back when a daemon materialized on the path right in front of their truck. They both jumped out of the vehicle ready for a fight.

 _“I got this Ignis!”_ Prompto had shouted proudly. He’d recognized the daemon as one he could take out with one noise blast but he was too eager to assure their safety and Ignis wasn’t fast enough to stop him. Ignis had known exactly what would happen but he called out too late. The whir of machinery quickly revved up to a frenzy and a horrible screech rent the night air. It temporarily deafened Ignis.

Prompto had used the powerful weapon countless times when they’d battled together in the past but not since Ignis had lost his sight. He was familiar with the result of close range exposure to the noiseblaster, the feeling of pressure and the high-pitched ringing in his ears, the eerie muffled sounds and the disorientation. He was unprepared for exactly how devastating it would feel to him, however, without his eyes to compensate for the loss of his hearing.

In the dark silence, he nearly panicked. Luckily the daemon did succumb to the single attack and Prompto realized his situation immediately, reaching out to him and dragging him back inside the truck, keeping hold of his hand and gripping his shoulder yelling _sorry I’m sorry shit shit_ over and over again until Ignis started to actually hear it.

As he sat there in the truck he tried to reach for his magic to give him something to ground himself in the world besides Prompto’s terrified and remorseful touch. He was too shaken though and unable to focus. Like the cutting waves of Leviathan, in the absence of sensory stimulation, dark emotions flooded him. He was angry and frustrated, scared and lonely. Logic escaped him. He missed Noctis, he missed Gladio and he missed the sunlight.

He didn’t trust himself to speak in those moments until his hearing returned. His own words were still muted when he was finally able to ask Prompto to stop fretting and drive back to Formouth. The motion of the truck helped, bumping along the dirt road, and Prompto’s voice continuously talking helped even more so, his friend knowing instinctively that Ignis needed the sound of it, needed something familiar and tangible. Thankfully, Prompto didn’t stop talking until he left Ignis on the bare bed in the barracks and left him to his shaking and his solitude.

Ignis flicked at the switch on his phone up and down making it beep and vibrate in his hands by turns. He’d nearly asked Prompto to keep driving straight back to Hammerhead where he could fall into his bed next to Gladio and feel safe and comfortable again.

Nearly. But in the end, he hadn’t. There were bound to be setbacks. Mistakes and stumbles. He’d have to learn how to accept them.

Uncertainty had never been easy for him. He kept telling himself that the weight of it would lessen over time but he was still waiting for it to happen. The only thing that seemed to be getting easier was accepting that things would always be hard.

He wanted to call Gladio. They’d spoken already, earlier in the day, and their conversation had been mostly practical. Ignis was fine, there was no reason he needed to call again other than the fact that he _needed_ too. It was possible Prompto had already called to report what had happened. Ignis knew Prompto was sending frequent texts keeping Gladio apprised of things. Ignis wondered if this was how Noctis had always felt when Prompto regularly reported back to him about the then Prince’s well being, a combination of annoyance and affection.

Calling Gladio might just make things worse. Even if Prompto hadn’t spoken to him, Ignis had been making a point of not communicating unless necessary. He needed to prove to both himself and his over-protective partner that he was fine on his own. But when it came down to it, Ignis didn’t want to lie and he didn’t want create more distance when that was exactly what he was trying to prevent by taking an active physical role in their survival efforts.

“Call Gladiolus.” He decided to order his phone to dial before he could talk himself out of it.

It barely rang once when Gladio picked up. _“Iggy? You okay?”_

The deep resonance of Gladio’s voice was an immediate balm to his raw nerves and frayed thoughts. Ignis let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“I...I’m fine. How is your leg?” Ignis couldn’t explain to even himself why he was constantly deflecting. _He was the one who called Gladio for Astrals’ sake_. He’d wanted to talk with him, feel close to him, yet his first instinct was still to shield himself from the King’s Shield. It was ridiculous. Gladio knew him better than anyone. They’d shared experience and emotion most couples never would in their wildest dreams or their worst nightmares. Just like waiting for things to get easier without sight, however, Ignis might always be waiting for the day he easily, willingly laid all of himself bare.

_“My leg’s the same as it was when you asked this morning, you didn’t call about my leg, Iggy. You don’t sound good, is something wrong?”_

Ignis swallowed down the lump that had risen into his throat. “I suppose I...just needed to hear your voice.”

_“Come on. What’s up, Ignis? I’m coming up there if…”_

“You don’t have to come up here. Prompto and I finished clearing the Prairie.”

 _“And? What happened?”_ Gladio was growing impatient and Ignis heard noises in the background, the soft rustle of him sitting up, the clink of his belt as he pulled on his trousers. If he didn’t come clean, he had no doubt Gladio would leave immediately and show up whether it was needed or not.

Ignis laid back and stretched on the cot, ready to brace himself for Gladio’s inevitable outrage. All in one breath he let out an accounting of the events that found him trembling alone like a child.

“A daemon came upon us just as we were about to pull away. Prompto took care of it quickly, it didn’t even have time to wage an attack, but he had to use his noiseblaster at close range.”

_“Shit. That fucking kid shoulda known better. Are you okay? How close were you? I hate that fucking thing. I don’t know why he still uses it.”_

The outrage came but it wasn’t as loud as he expected and the tone of it lacked the teeth to truly bite. Either Gladio was purposely holding back his fury or he’d exchanged some of it for more rational and accepting concern. Both situations, whichever the case, made Ignis grateful and he settled a little into the thin mattress.

“It’s a very effective piece of machinery and it was the right decision to use it. It was a one hit kill. Swift and efficient, I just...I wasn’t prepared for…”

Not only was Ignis not prepared for being both blind _and_ deaf, even if only for a few minutes, he clearly wasn’t ready to relive it again. Searing panic suddenly gripped his chest and his breath shortened at the all too fresh memory.

_“Fuck, you don’t have to explain it Iggy. It musta been awful. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. Are you okay now? Are you sure you don’t want me to come up? There are two other crews here. I’m off the crutches, I’ll let Iris drive, we can be there in...”_

Gladio’s concern was painfully tender and Ignis found himself wishing he could just say yes.

“No, it’s alright, I’m already planning on returning to Hammerhead soon, things are going well here but I wanted to tell you what happened and I…” Ignis tripped over his own vulnerability again and couldn’t finish the sentence.

_“...Needed to hear my voice?”_

Ignis didn’t answer, but he nodded as if Gladio could see it. Somehow, the other man seemed to know.

_“Yeah, well I’m glad you called. I always like hearing your voice too. And don’t huff at me. I love you Ignis, I’m allowed to say sappy shit if I want.”_

Ignis smiled, the anxious fire in his chest receded into a subtle warmth as he let Gladio’s faraway presence surround him with sound alone. “I wasn’t going to argue, love.”

_“Ha! You must still be pretty shaken up if you’re not even in the mood to argue.”_

“I’d rather you keep talking than have to hear my own voice right now.”

Ignis heard Gladio shuffle back into their bed as he chuckled into the phone. _“I’m gonna remind you that you actually said that someday by the way. So, you want me to read to you, maybe? I brought a bunch of books from Lestallum. I just unpacked ‘em. There’s one on the line of Lucian Kings. Wanna hear?”_

“That sounds like it might put both of us to sleep.”

_“I wish you were here, so we could fall asleep together.”_

“Only sleep?”

_“Tease.”_

Gladio read to him from the book on the Kings of Lucis. It was dull, as expected, and nothing Ignis hadn’t learned in school before he even knew he’d spend his life serving the Crown.

While he listened, Ignis tried to imagine lying in bed with Gladio, resting his head on his lover’s broad chest and feeling the rumble of his voice against his cheek. When they couldn’t make love or were simply too exhausted to do so, Gladio often read out loud to him until they both found rest. Ignis knew Gladio could fall asleep inside seconds no matter the situation. He was almost as bad as Noctis, but where His Majesty slept like the dead, Gladio could wake to full alertness at the sound of a leaf blowing by.

Their strange approximation of bedtime story telling was always for Ignis’ benefit alone. He was the one prone to staying awake at all hours, unable to slow down his thoughts. It had only gotten worse when he couldn’t occupy himself with tasks that required sight. Gladio was always willing to do anything he could to make sure they both slept soundly, and always in each other’s arms.

When they reached the reign of King Mors in the book, _having skipped over a vast number of ‘boring’ monarchs per Gladio’s preference_ , Gladio yawned.

“I’m sorry to have kept you up. You should go to sleep.”

_“Come on Iggy, don’t worry about it. This is us. I wish you’d let me do more for you.”_

From Ignis’ perspective, Gladio did everything for him, _was everything to him_. He should have said that. _He wished he’d said that._

Instead he said, “I’ll return soon. Thank you for talking.”

_“I love you Iggy.”_

“I love you too.”

_“And hey when you get back, there’s somethin’ else we need to talk about okay?”_

“Yes, of course, anything. As soon as I’m back.” Ignis absently brushed aside the request. His thoughts were consumed by everything he wanted to say but wasn’t able to quite get out.

Instead they just said their goodnights and goodbyes but even after he hung up he couldn’t let go of the desperate, urgent feeling that _he_ was the one who needed to do more for Gladio. He needed to say more to him, to give him back some small fraction of the patient reassurance, the loving presence and the gentle indulgence that he gave to Ignis daily since long before they were romantically involved.

He tossed and turned on the small cot for hours wrestling with the problem of _proving_ something as intangible as his feelings for Gladio. How did one quantify commitment? How did one measure devotion? He’d never been the type to be able to convincingly execute a hollow gesture or a shallow platitude simply for its own sake even though he knew those things held value to most couples. It was Gladio who was the hopeless romantic.

_The hopeless romantic who had mentioned several times in the past exactly what he’d always meant to do to prove, quantify and measure their relationship for both their benefit and the benefit of showing others._

Sometimes it was in passing. Sometimes as a tease. Once it was suggested in the midst of tears and loss. And then they’d not mentioned it again since night had fallen. They’d had too much else to think about, their fate and the fate of the world wedging itself right in between what might have been an obvious future under other, better, circumstances. To be truthful, Ignis had never _really_ taken it seriously or taken it as any sort of realistic priority. It was his mistake. A dreadful mistake that suddenly he needed to rectify immediately.

Ignis got out of bed. He texted Prompto that he wanted to leave in the morning. He made his rounds with the hunters assuring everything was in order. He checked and double checked that the garrison was as operational as it could feasibly get. When he was satisfied he could return to Hammerhead with the victory of securing a new outpost under his belt, he returned to the barracks, sat on the cot again and dictated into his phone.

Something as important as what he was intending demanded a detailed list. It was possibly the most ludicrous thing he’d ever done in his life, but if he was going to do this, he needed to make sure he was armed with all of the reasons it made sense. If not for Gladio, for himself.

One did not simply propose marriage without a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just. I dunno. It's gonna get fluffier okay? My feels for these two are only getting worse. If anyone figures out how to escape this ship, please let me know. The next chapter came to me on my morning commute and I'm excited to write it so I had to get this chapter out of the way. Funny how road rage yields sappy fanfic ideas. Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

_“Dude I dunno why, he just said he wanted to go back right away. We’re leaving now. Are you ready or what?”_

Ignis approached Prompto but slowed his step when he heard him talking on the phone. The other man had already loaded up the truck and the engine was running for their drive back to Hammerhead. He was just waiting for Ignis.

 _“Dudegottagobye.”_ Prompto sputtered out the end of the conversation he was having to whomever he’d been speaking with and tapped the screen more times than was necessary to hang up the call.

“Is something amiss?” Ignis asked as he got into the passenger seat.

Prompto took the helm and slammed the door shut. “Uh, nope. Nothin’. Just uh...just called the big guy to make sure he knew we’re on our way so he can, you know, clean up the place or whatever.”

Ignis couldn’t decide whether to be upset that his friend was lying to him or amused that, after all this time, Prompto thought he couldn’t tell it was a lie.

“Mm.” Ignis nodded his head. There was nothing that struck him as particularly worrying in Prompto’s tone so he decided to be indulgent. He likely had been talking to Gladio and Ignis also felt it was certain that their shared living space was a mess with him having been gone for so long, but neither was it plausible that Gladio would clean it prior to his arrival nor that Prompto would call him to assure he did so.

It was more likely Prompto had called to report the incident last night. Ignis was relieved he’d beaten him to the punch. Had Gladio not found out until Prompto told him this morning, Ignis was sure he would be in for another tense argument and not the discussion about marriage he had planned.

Ignis relaxed into his seat as the old truck bumped and rattled along down the road. Because he envisioned frequent movement and communication between the crews at Hammerhead and Formouth, he’d arranged a regular sweep of the highways between the two outposts. The hunters had made good progress at keeping ahead of the continuous daemon spawning. As such, their drive was fortunately uneventful. The only thing marring the peace of it was Prompto repeatedly tapping one finger on the steering wheel since the moment they pulled away from the garrison. Ignis let it pass until he started tapping two fingers irregularly and out of sync. It became annoying quickly.

“Prompto, is there a reason you’re doing that?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, sorry. I’ll stop.”

Prompto stopped. Then he started bouncing his free leg.

“Prompto. I hope you know that I called Gladio last night to discuss what happened. It was an accident that nonetheless kept us both safe. There is no reason to be so nervous. Gladio’s reaction was better than I expected, in fact. No harm was done and the matter is forgotten.”

When he received no reply to his reassurances about Gladio, Ignis added a reassurance for his part. “I’m also aware of how often he has asked you to report in on my well being. I understand your position and I don’t mind. I think of it as karma for all the times I asked you monitor Noctis. So you can rest assured that no one is angry with you. _Now please stop your noisy fidgeting.”_

“Gotcha buddie.”

This time, Prompto’s seemingly innocent response made Ignis pause.

More than all of his friends combined, at times even more so than Gladiolus, and despite being _blind,_ Ignis could read Prompto like an open book. He had thought Prompto was acting strange because he was nervous. But the way he said that last bit... _Ignis was certain he could hear amusement in his voice._ If Prompto thought he wouldn’t notice it, he was sorely mistaken.

Prompto was hiding something. A few years ago, Ignis would have immediately called him out and demanded to know whatever information was being kept from him. Perhaps his injury had begun to silence some of his incessant need for perfect clarity. Perhaps he was simply getting more mature as the years passed. Perhaps he just trusted his friends. So, he didn’t probe further and let Prompto keep his secrets. They would surface eventually. Prompto never could keep quiet about anything. Besides that, Ignis had his own agenda to set in motion as soon as he set foot on the pavement of Hammerhead and he wasn’t keen on acquiring any other distractions.

They didn’t speak again until they arrived and Prompto stopped him from going directly to his caravan to find Gladio.

“Hey Ignis, wait!” Prompto grabbed his arm before he even had both feet out of the truck. “We gotta do something first.”

“What are you talking about? I’m going to see Gladio. Just let everyone know we’re back and we can have a meeting after I get settled. I checked in with Dave before we left, there should be nothing urgent right now. And Gladio and I need to speak.”

Ignis got out of the truck and Prompto scurried around to intercept him again.

“He’s not here. I mean, he’s, you know, _around,_  but not, like, _here_. Right now.” Prompto shifted his weight from foot to foot, making the material of his trousers rustle.

Ignis sighed. “Prompto, I’m not sure what this game is you’ve been playing since we left Formouth, but whatever it is, it can wait. I have something I need to discuss with Gladio. Now, what do you mean he isn’t ‘here’? You were speaking to him before we departed, were you not?”

“Yeah but…” Prompto ran his fingers through his hair with a soft swish and then he clicked his tongue. “I didn’t think we were leaving the garrison so soon and...ugh. Fine. Whatever. If he’s ready he’s ready, if he’s not he’s not. It’s been like six years or something. If he isn’t ready now, it serves him right. Come on. I’m supposed to take you to Cindy first.”

Prompto grabbed his arm and gently pulled. He had no idea what his friend was on about but he didn’t fight back. He did, however, huff his annoyance. Hopefully whatever this was would be over quickly.

“Hey there Sunshine! Bring him on over here!” Ignis could picture Cindy waving them down as Prompto dragged him towards the garage.

“If this is meant to be some kind of ‘welcome back’, I assure you both it is unnecessary and I have something specific I need to address with Gladio as soon as possible...”

Ignis’ argument fell on deaf ears as Prompto shoved him in front of Cindy.

“Cool your jets there Sugar, the big guy can wait for a sec. I got somethin’ for ya. Hold out your hand for me.”

It wasn’t as if he didn’t trust Cindy, he simply hated surprises, especially when he had a job to do that was more deserving of his time. If he were frank, he hated anything unexpected, though ‘the unexpected’ encompassed more of his life these days than he cared to dwell on. Reluctant but resigned, Ignis held out his hand.

He pursed his lips as he waited. Instead of placing the item in his hand, however, she began wrapping something around his wrist. Ignis concentrated. It was something...leather? Smooth and expensive as he was accustomed to back in the Crown City, not like the thick, rough hide the hunters wore for protection.

“There ya go!” Cindy tied the length of leather off into a knot. “Have a feel o’ that. Smooth like a baby’s bottom. Can’t find leather like that anymore.”

Ignis touched the material around his wrist. It was soft and supple. He had an uncontrollable urge to smell it, so he lifted his hand to his nose. The scent was unmistakable. Memories flooded him. Happy and sad and everything in between, all of them aching sweetly in his chest. Memories of hours, days, weeks, months, spent in the company of his friends, their hearts fueled by the righteousness of duty and the thrill of discovery. Open roads. Freedom. Sunrises and sunsets. Days, _long days_ , filled with light and _color_.

Ignis bit his lip. He was speechless, so Cindy spoke for him.

“Gladio tore up my garage lookin’ for that. Took him forever to find it. I didn’t even remember it was here. It’s from back when I had to fix the old girl’s upholstery for ya. I had some scrap of the original leather left over. I never get rid of nothin’, cuz who knows when you’re gonna need it? Finest leather in Lucis. And it’s all we have left of the Regalia now. It’s only fair you should have it since you got to drive her the most. Plus I hear the big guy’s got plans for it. ‘Bout time too if you ask me.”

Cindy leaned in and gave Ignis a peck on the cheek. She smelled of exhaust and gasoline. That too reminded Ignis of the Regalia and his time as its caretaker. The scent was beautiful on her.

“This is...thank you Cindy.”

“Don’t thank me. I’ve thought of y’all as family since the day you boys pushed the old girl in here huffin’ and puffin’ and sweatin’ in the sun. It was real sweet of Gladio to let me be the one to give it to ya. Now I think it’s Sunshine's turn.”

Cindy’s sauntering steps moved away and Prompto tapped him on his shoulder.

“How come she always winks at you and never at me? Kind of a waste don't you think?”

“Because I can’t see it or because I have no interest in it?”

“Haha both! Although, you never really even fell for it when Gladio used to make puppy eyes at you.”

“Pfft, there were _no_ puppy eyes.”

Ignis felt a flush creep into his cheeks. He and Gladio had always tried to be discreet about their relationship when they were around others. Not that it was ever a secret, they simply felt it important they show that their focus was always on Noctis. Even without him in their daily lives any longer, the behavior carried over as habit. It was a rare thing for them to discuss their intimacy around others and even more rare they allowed their gestures of affection to be seen.

Now that Ignis himself couldn’t actually see them, he had to admit that he’d never thought about how the loss of those subtle connections might have affected Gladio. At times it was all they had, the silent glances, the knowing expressions.

Ignis felt sick that it was yet another thing he couldn’t offer Gladio any longer and it made what he wanted to do that much more important.

“Come on, Iggy. Let’s go to my place for a sec.”

“Prompto, I really must speak with Gladiolus. It was thoughtful for all of you to arrange to give me this gift, but there is something I _need_ to discuss with him.” Ignis was getting impatient now. He knew things had been tense recently, increasingly so since Gladio broke his leg but in his head, the conflicts were resolved and they needed to move on, which included asking Gladio to marry him. It was all very touching that their friends felt they should make a show of solidarity but honestly all of this would be better served if they would just let him _propose_.

“I swear this’ll be worth it. And I’m not allowed to bring you to Gladio until we all go first.”

Again Ignis found himself being led forward, this time to Prompto’s caravan. It appeared the lot of them had a more elaborate plan for pointless ‘bonding’ than he’d originally expected. He kept silent and followed along. If it made all of them feel better he could allow them their sentimentality. The small piece of the Regalia was a welcome keepsake. He wouldn’t refuse anything else they meant to offer him.

“Lemme have your phone.”

Ignis sat on Prompto’s bed, unlocked his phone and handed it over. A few taps and a pause later, Prompto handed it back for him.

“Okay Iggy, all you have to do is tell it to ‘play camp video’.”

Ignis ordered his phone to do exactly that and said video began to play. First he heard Prompto, asking about dinner. He heard Gladio, and he sounded farther away grumbling about help pitching the tent and starting the fire. He heard himself, attempting to settle the brewing bickering.

He heard Noctis.

_“Alright, alright, Specs, I’ll help you make dinner if it gets me out of waking up early to help with breakfast. Am I just supposed to stir this, or what?”_

Ignis couldn’t hold in a gasp. He brought his hand up to his mouth to stop a second from escaping. In the recording, Prompto told a joke, and then the Prince chuckled. Lazy laugher, cool and relaxed. His voice was soft and easy, as Ignis remembered before the Kingdom had fallen. Before the weight of a crown too heavy and a ring too vicious had taken the youth from him too soon.

If the smell of the Regalia had surprised him with fond memories, the sound of his charge, his friend, his King...it stunned him with emotion. It had been so long since he’d heard his voice. A voice he’d heard every day of his life since he was a child until the day he was taken from them. A voice that often haunted his dreams. Nightmares where Noctis shouted for him, screamed but he just couldn’t get there fast enough and he’d wake sweating, almost thinking he could see him again until the waking world took hold and the hope and horror both disappeared.

Only to be replaced by the horror of a world without the King of Light, where they were all forced to hold on to nothing but hope.

The video went on a few minutes more. Careless banter, brotherly fighting. Echos of who the four of them had once been beneath a sunlit sky, echoing in his ears, now, in a tiny caravan, in the dark.

When it was over, Prompto spoke as one trying to bite back grief. “I forgot I made that video for a while and then one day, after we got back to Lucis I found it. I used to watch it, just to hear his voice, every night. It helped me sleep. It’s better now though. I don’t have to... _every_ night. But it’s nice to have it. Anyway, it’s copied to your phone. And Gladio has it on his. He and I can always look at the pics I took when we were all together, but…well, now you can at least hear him.

Ignis didn’t speak until he was certain he could manage without having to hear the pain in his own voice. “This is an incredible, _meaningful_ , gift Prompto. You have my thanks.”

“I told the big guy before we left that you two are never getting rid of me, so whatever happens, I consider us family, like Cindy said. We just... _are_.”

Prompto thankfully didn’t kiss him on the cheek as Cindy had, but he did wrap him up in a sloppy hug and then he pulled him to his feet.

“Okay! Two down, two to go, Iggy. I’m taking you to Iris now, but we gotta get back in the truck and drive a little. You okay with that?”

Ignis replied with a quiet ‘yes’. He was floored and humbled by the sentiment his friends, _his family,_ so easily offered him especially when it felt like he offered them little in return but orders and edicts. Back on the road, Ignis was so consumed by memories he barely thought about why they had to leave Hammerhead or where they could possibly be going to see Iris. It wasn’t long before Prompto pulled over and helped Ignis out of the truck.

“Okay Iggy, we’re not at an outpost, but there’s a haven nearby, and this area is pretty good right now, so we’ll be safe walking. Iris is just up ahead.”

“Where exactly are we?” They hadn’t made any turns after pulling out of Hammerhead and based on the time it took them, Ignis could suspect where he was being led.

“Near the old Insomnia checkpoint.”

Ignis didn’t have time to inquire further. Iris appeared and took his hand. Not to lead him, just to hold. He heard Prompto step away and pull his gun, presumably to keep watch while Iris played whatever part she was going to play in this strange show of ‘family’ unity.

“Hi Ignis. Did you like your other gifts so far?”

“I was honored to receive them Iris. I appreciate what all of you have done very much, but it isn’t wise for us to be dallying here in the open. Perhaps we should go back.”

“It’s fine, Gladdy’s here with me. He’s mostly good as new, we came on his bike. We cleared out the place and he set up a camp at the haven up the hill. The one overlooking the city. I’m not gonna stay long, I just have to give you my gift.”

Iris lifted his hand that she was holding and on his exposed palm she laid a small, cool object, heavy for its size. She let him pick it up with his other hand and turn it about in his fingers.

It was a ring.

Simple, smooth and large enough to fit a man, it tingled with magic. Unlike a normal piece of jewelry, Ignis could tell that this ring was meant to enhance or protect it’s wearer in some way. Unlike his previous two gifts, he was not immediately struck by how this should be meaningful to him even though he knew this was a rare and costly thing that he’d just been given.

Iris closed her hand around his, the ring clutched inside his fist. She answered his question before he could ask it.

“It’s our dad’s wedding ring, Ignis. He gave it to me the night before the city fell. I have our mom’s ring too. He said he wanted me to wear hers when I got married. And he told me to give his ring to Gladdy so that he could give it to you when you guys were ready. I begged Gladdy to let me be the one to give it to you. Our dad always thought of you as his other son and I always thought of you as my other brother. This ring is part of the Amicitia family and so are you.”

Ignis couldn’t move when Iris jumped up and smothered him in a hug. He barely heard it when she dashed away, and she and Prompto got in the truck to head back. The weight of the ring in his hand was immense. The weight of the tears in his scarred eyes was even more so and he fought to keep them from falling.

The weight of Gladio’s hand on his shoulder was light as a feather.

“Come on Iggy, let’s go up to the camp. I got something I wanna ask ya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some writers block and the six different unfinished chapters/stories I have started were doing nothing but laughing mockingly at me. Then I made the mistake of binge watching Yuri on Ice which I'd never seen before. All that did for me was make my number of unfinished fics seven <3 Anyway, for some reason Yuri and Victor took a back seat to Gladnis tonight and I was able to finish this chapter that was sitting forever. Hope it's okay. Even if it isn't, thanks for reading! ;)
> 
> (oh yeah and for some reason I put in a line from another favorite salty hot animated dude I love to write fic for. kudos if you caught it)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, yeah, I changed the rating. What else is new. Thanks so much for reading! It really means a lot to me!

Gladio walked beside him more than led him to the campsite on the haven grounds at the hill overlooking Insomnia; he described the terrain as they went so Ignis knew exactly how to find his footing.

When they entered the familiar rune covered space a calming magic settled around them and the ancient stone seemed to hum. He still held Clarus Amicitia’s wedding ring in his fist, smothered inside his sweaty palm.

“There’s a blanket laid out three paces to your left.”

Ignis counted out the steps, felt for the blanket and sat. He was still rendered speechless and awestruck by the force of Gladio’s loyalty focused solely on him. He felt like he was nineteen years old again, blushing under the heat of Gladio’s gaze, heart fluttering madly in his chest anticipating a word, a touch, a breath, a sigh, anything to make the moment _real,_ when it all just seemed like a dream.

Gladio grunted as he lowered himself down to the ground next to him. His recently injured leg creaked and popped. Ignis winced at the sound.

“The leg’s fine Iggy. Every joint in my old man’s body made noises even back when I was a little kid. He always bitched at me about not being a _real_ Shield ‘til I got a _real_ wound.”

“I think by now he’d be satisfied many times over.” Ignis replied softly. They rarely spoke of those who had passed. Their many brothers and sisters in the Glaive and Guard who were no longer with them had nothing left to memorialize their sacrifice but the memories of them in those who lived on. Clarus had left more of a legacy than most, in his children, and here, in his ring.

Ignis opened his hand gingerly and tried to picture the thing sitting there. He wished he’d paid more attention to it on Clarus’ finger when the man had worn it himself, but back then he had no way of knowing it would one day be in his possession, passed from father, to daughter, to would-be brother, would-be husband.

“It’s just a plain platinum band.” Without being asked, Gladio filled in the blanks where his eyes failed him. “There’s some old Lucian inscribed on the inside. It says _acta_ _non verba_.”

_Deeds not words._

It was the Amicitia family motto. The phrase was etched into Gladio’s right arm hidden amongst the plumage of his tattoo. Iris wore it on a pendant around her neck. And now the words sat in Ignis’ hand.

“I know it’s an Amicitia thing, but gods know there isn't anyone whose deeds have been more important to all of us than yours Iggy. Our dad wanted you to have this…”

Gladio’s hand closed around his, entrapping the ring between them. With his other hand he cupped the angle of Ignis’ jaw that had gone slack a long while ago. The heat of the large man’s body inched slowly closer until their knees knocked and their foreheads touched.

“...and _I_ want you to have this.”

Gladio kissed him. Again he was a teenager, boneless, helpless and overwhelmed in the face of overwhelming love. Now though, the kiss felt deeper than those first immature lust-hazed acts when they were younger. This kiss held years of shared passions and intimacy that only the two of them could claim. This kiss held pain and loss and companionship every bit as much as it held joy and belonging. As ever in Gladio’s presence, Ignis was swept away. The temperature around them rose swiftly, their lips pressed together and their tongues entwining.

“Ignis,” Gladio whispered his name with both exasperation and longing, their mouths barely parted. “Can we finally get married now? _Please?_ ”

It was a desperate act at best. Trying to find some normalcy in their lives with this. Trying to make bonds when the world would otherwise see them broken.

“Yes.”

Ignis wished his voice hadn’t cracked when he said it. He wished there was some longer, better, stronger word to use to make his absolute certainty more clear. But when Gladio pulled away silently to take the ring from him and slip it onto his finger, he knew if ever there was a time to personify the Amicitia motto, this was it.

It felt like ages since they’d touched, and Ignis swore to himself to never allow distance, whether real or imagined, grow between them again. If this was all they had, all they would ever have again, their love, their family and the hope their King would return, then he would work to affirm each of those things each day for the rest of his days.

They found one another again with their lips, teeth nipping, and cheeks pulled into smiles. If those cheeks were wet with tears, neither of them would ever admit to it. Hands and fingers laced together, squeezed and then released to help each other tug off their boots and clothes. They’d made love on this hill once before, with the lights of Insomnia bright along the horizon and the chirps of crickets sounding loudly in the darkness.

Ignis couldn’t see what light, if any, remained now and the only sounds were muted daemon wails repelled somewhere far off by the magic of the haven. Beneath the starless, moonless sky they bared themselves naked, save for the scrap of leather tied to Ignis’ wrist and the ring on his finger. And also, his glasses. The leather and the ring were left untouched, but when Gladio reached for the spectacles, Ignis stopped him.

“Ignis, come on…” The hurt and shock in his fiance’s voice was obvious, but Ignis planned to soothe it in short order.

He took off his glasses himself, took in a breath and then snapped them clean in two. He exhaled and stood and though he had no idea what direction he was facing, he threw both halves as far away as he could into the night.

To the enticing sound of a deep laugh, a growl and a firm yank downward, Ignis found himself on his back beneath Gladio. The other man’s beard nuzzled at his chin then gently up his face. Their noses nudged together clumsily and wet kisses tickled Ignis faintly across his scarred skin. Though the sensation of them was dulled by the now old damage where tiny, delicate nerves failed to heal, that didn’t keep him from feeling the gestures of affection fully in his heart.

Gladio was solid and unyielding above him. The dense muscles that Ignis knew could break him, instead cradled him with reverence. His lover’s leg creaked again as he shifted his weight, hard thighs and calves gliding along his own and the hard lengths of both of them throbbing, aching between them.

Ignis grabbed at Gladio’s taut buttocks, planted his heel against the stone for leverage and tried to grind them closer together, but Gladio slid down and away. He took Ignis in his hand and then in his mouth and Ignis didn’t bother to bite back a groan of bliss.

He twisted his fingers into Gladio’s hair, imagining what it used to be like to see the dark waves spilling through his knuckles. Ignis clenched and pulled rhythmically with Gladio’s rhythmic sucking but when rough fingers started teasing and then thrusting inside him, he lifted his hands to tangle in his own hair as he canted his head back and cried out again.

When Gladio released him to sit up, Ignis nearly sobbed a plea to _please please take him_. Gladio pushed in slowly, languidly but Ignis grabbed at the back of his neck violently, desperately, pulling, needing to be closer still.

Ignis brought his fingertips to Gladio’s mouth and felt a shaky exhale when he was finally seated deep inside him. He ran his thumb back and forth across Gladio’s lips and every few passes the other man’s tongue darted out to taste. Ignis let his fingers graze along Gladio’s hairline, around his ears and down his jaw, clenched with effort. Ignis felt stretched and filled, in and out, as they both worked up into a frenzy. He traced Gladio’s cheekbones, then up and down the lines of his intersecting scars trying as best he could to remember the sight of them. Gladio’s eyelashes fluttered under his touch and his nostrils flared with hot breath on each pounding thrust that pushed Ignis back across the stone. With one hand still caressing Gladio’s scars, Ignis brought his other hand down to grip himself so their strokes were timed in synchrony.

“Gladio, Gladio, _please_ …” Ignis ordered, _begged_. “ _Harder_ , please, I need to feel you.”

“Fuck, Ignis, _fuck…”_ Gladio pleaded, _demanded_. “Come for me, _come_.”

They shouted into the nothingness of a ruined Lucis, loud enough for the daemons of Insomnia to hear them. They shouted broken words of love as they broke apart in each other’s arms until their throats were dry and they spilled themselves utterly and completely.

Ignis shuddered and twitched when Gladio lowered his mouth again to swallow him down for one last taste, lapping at the spend on his abdomen and kissing across the bones of his hips. When he finished, he laid his head down on Ignis’ stomach. Still gasping, Ignis floated back down to reality while he massaged at Gladio’s scalp.

When they both finally caught their breath, Ignis decided to admit to his now wasted efforts.

“I made a list you know.”

“For what?” Gladio mumbled against his skin.

“I was planning on proposing to you myself. It’s why I returned earlier than I’d previously intended. I had a list of very cogent reasons to support the decision.”

He felt Gladio’s mouth spread into a grin. “That sounds like you.”

“My efforts seem to have been a waste of time. Clearly you had things well in hand long before I’d even considered broaching the subject.”

“Ignis. Did you honestly think you’d need to convince _me_ with a list?”

“I suppose it was more to convince myself that it was the appropriate action to take, things being as they are.”

“You mean you were trying to convince yourself you can have nice things and be happy?”

“ _Nice things_?” Ignis stretched and yawned to hide his smile. “And what exactly would you be referring to?”

“Me. Obviously. Anything in that list of yours about how _nice_ I am?”

“Perhaps one or two things. It was a short list.”

Gladio climbed up to Ignis’ mouth and stole a kiss. The scent of sweat, the night air blowing in a breeze off the sea and the taste of their lovemaking was almost enough to stir his desire again. Gladio rolled onto his back, and it was Ignis’ turn to lay his head down against him. He felt Gladio’s heartbeat thump against his cheek and the sound of it lulled him into a sleepy daze, but he wanted to make this time together, _this feeling_ , last as long as possible, even if it meant staying awake all night.

At the thought of the arbitrary days and nights they still cycled through in an effort to maintain their sanity, Ignis decided to ask a question only Gladio would give him an honest answer to without stumbling on pity.

“Will you tell me what the sky looks like?”

None of them ever elaborated much on the actual content of the eternal night sky. It was _dark_. That was it. And it would be until the one hundred and fourteenth King of Lucis returned. Of course, the scientists had their tests and theories, and once upon a time Ignis would surely have been fascinated by all of them. His time these days, however, was better spent ensuring the Kingdom survived the night rather than the minutiae of how that night came to be. He knew there was only one cure for it, one solution and that was Noctis.

“Hmm. Well, it’s not just black. There are some brighter specs where the stars should be but they come and go. There are sometimes lighter greys and browns along the horizon around when it should be dawn and right now there’s some dark purples, like bruise-colored patches, above the water line. I can see the bridge a little, but there aren’t any city lights anymore. You can kinda make out some of the skyscrapers and the outline of the Citadel. Definitely doesn’t look like home, that’s for sure. And it’s nothin’ like when we were here on our first date.”

“If I recall, you were quite adamant about the fact that it was actually our third date.”

“Guess I just wanted you to feel better about sleeping with me so quick.”

“You say that as if you automatically assumed I _wouldn’t_ sleep with you right away.”

“Yeah, well I mighta already been in love with you but who knew you’d be such a freak in bed? I thought for sure I’d have to romance you a little more.”

“Gladio, I can honestly say that your pursuit of me was as romantic as anyone could have realistically contrived.”

“Is that as close as I’m getting to a compliment?”

Ignis sat up and faced his soon to be husband, waiting until he was sure he could feel his amber eyes focused on him. “Gladiolus, I love you. Never doubt that.”

Gladio pulled him into an embrace. “I never have Ignis.”

They settled beside each other again, quite for a while and then it was Gladio’s turn to break the silence.

“So, got any ideas about how we actually _do_ this?”

“ _‘This’_ being a wedding, I assume? You mean you haven’t planned that out as well yet?”

Ignis jumped when an open palm landed square on his bare behind.

“Hey, you rushed me alright, if you weren’t so damned impatient about doing everything yourself maybe I _could_ have had the actual wedding planned out too.”

In retaliation, Ignis bit at one of Gladio’s nipples.

“Ouch! Fuck!”

“Oh hush, that didn’t hurt. As far as finding a legitimate Insomnian officiant to perform a ceremony, we’ll be hard pressed. All the reports we have stated that the empire executed any figure of authority they could find as soon as the city fell. None of the ruling council made it out. If any Crown court judges were among the refugees that escaped Insomnia, they likely concealed their identity while the enemy still occupied much of Lucis for fear of execution. It is possible some have settled in Lestallum but none have organized or have yet come forth, to my knowledge, to help with the survival efforts. There may not be enough of them left to even do so.”

“I was really hoping this wasn’t going to be as depressing as I thought it was gonna be.”

“They do say marriage isn’t easy. Though I’m not sure this is quite what they meant.”

“Eh, we’ve figured out harder shit than this, right? I only read romances with happy endings and those books got nothin’ on us.”

Gladio reached for Ignis’ hand. The hand with his father’s ring. Ignis gripped tightly back, and he opened his mouth to agree but he found he couldn’t get the words out and he ended up saying nothing. Practicality started to creep back into his head. Wanting a happy ending did not assure one, no matter how hard one worked for it, or how much one deserved it.

Ignis turned the Amicitia ring around and around on his finger with the pad of his thumb. He listened to Gladio’s breathing until it evened out into slumber. Ignis thought of Clarus as he lay there in the dark beside his son. Clarus and Regis had known all along that they could not avoid tragedy. And yet they pressed on for their families, doing everything they could, together, even in the face of inevitable failure, to secure the safety of their loved ones and secure the hope of a new dawn.

It was up to them now, up to him and Gladio, to show strength by deed and lead by example. As he drifted off to sleep himself, Ignis prayed to whatever gods were left, that their actions would prove worthy of their King, as Clarus’ had for Regis. And that none of this would be in vain.


	8. Chapter 8

_“For fucks sake, are we done herding these sheep yet? Noct needs us!”_

_Ignis shared Gladio’s sentiment, but Noctis had made an accord that they would protect the citizens of Altissia and Ignis would not make a liar of their King._

_“Guys, there’s more Nif ships coming! Look! Headed for the pier! Is Lady Luna still down there?” Prompto pointed with his pistols and simultaneously fired shots in the same direction where a line of MT’s were advancing._

_Ignis clenched his fists. The sky was grey over their heads but eerie and calm. Sea spray poured down like a storm. The air was still. Ignis wished the wind would whip around them. He wished lightening would crack. Nothing about this seemed natural or right. He felt like they might all drown at any moment, pawns to the whim of a capricious god, their dying screams slowly silenced by the blue depths. He looked out onto the chaos of waves, trying to catch a glimpse of Noctis amidst the rising funnels and walls of water. All he could manage to see were darting streaks of magic and phantom wisps of black chasing in the wake of the Tide Mother._

_Every fiber of his being wanted to agree with Gladio. Help Noctis. Protect Noctis. All for Noctis. It was his mantra, his guiding principle, his promise to a dying father. But Noctis had a destiny and Regis had given all of himself, used all of his power, spent all of his pride to see his son on the path to that destiny. Regis had known when he could no longer control fate, when he had to let the Prince learn to reign. Ignis had to do the same._

_“Ignis, we need to get to Noct.” Gladio’s tone was dangerous. It would be madness to refuse him._

_“No.” Ignis spit the word out quickly but it still tasted bitter in his mouth. “Noctis is King. His fate is with the Hydrean. A covenant must be formed, we cannot interfere. He would want us to help Lady Lunafreya and keep her safe while he subdues Leviathan. We should go to her.”_

_“Fucking shit Ignis.” Gladio snarled at him, veins pulled taut across his bare arms as he hefted his sword and shield. “This is a godsdamned shit show. The whole thing was fucked before it even started. He needs our help. Now come the fuck on.”_

_Prompto fired off another round at the growing enemy lines. Airships were hovering, dropping scores of soulless soldiers into the fray. “Guys, we’re gonna get pinned here, we gotta go!” His warning was insistent but he reloaded his guns with trembling hands._

_Ignis saw raw distress in Prompto’s clear blue eyes. When he turned to Gladio, it was almost like he was staring down the Archean himself, facing a determination so fierce it could only be found in the Shield of a Lucian King._

_In that second, Ignis’ resolve to do the right thing was broken. He wanted to go to Noctis. They all did. They all would._

_They all would have. But that second was one second too late. From between the rows of marching MT’s came High Commander Ravus._

_“Not this asshole…” Gladio seethed and raised the genji blade he’d won from Gilgamesh._

_Ravus raised his black sword in response. King Regis’ Glaive hung unused from his hip. “I will not suffer the insolence of fools.” The First Son of Tenebrae snarled back at him. “Have you not a fool King to protect? How dare you interfere. You will let me pass.”_

_Let him pass? Was he trying to get to his sister?_

_There was no time to find the answer to those questions and Ravus did not pause to allow them a chance to obey his command. He lunged at Gladio. Unlike their first encounter, this time Gladio was the one to throw him back as he met the blow with his shield and shoved forward with all of his considerable might._

_A fleeting look of surprise passed across Ravus’ face before he recovered quickly and the two large men engaged in earnest._  

_MT’s swarmed their position. Prompto and Ignis were forced away from where Gladio and Ravus were exchanging flurries of crushing blows, neither wanting to showing any point of weakness._

_Ignis pulled his daggers and dug in. It was no longer a matter of getting to Noctis, it became a fight just to keep from getting pushed back into the sea. Every inch of Altissia seemed to teeter at the edge of the abyss, suspended precariously atop the waves. In peacetime, it was captivating. In war time it was treacherous._

_He eventually lost sight of Prompto entirely. Gladio and Ravus were nothing but distant sword swings occasionally arcing above the madness only to fall back down into the tumult of sparking metal soldiers._

_Ignis shoulder tackled one of those enemy soldiers and managed to charge low enough to use his leverage to tip the thing into the water. When he straightened to take a breath and ready his blades for the next fight, he saw a space clear as yet another airship hovered low enough for one person to exit and drop to the ground._

_The Imperial Chancellor strolled forward with a swaying arrogance, oblivious to the chaos around him. Ignis narrowed his eyes. He was some distance away but he was the closest of their companions. Ardyn was headed for the pier where Lunafreya still stood supporting Noctis against the Hydrean._

_Ignis rushed forward gripping his daggers tighter. He should find prompto, he told himself. He should find Gladio. They all should have gone to Lady Luna when they’d had the chance. A nauseous feeling burrowed its way into Ignis’ gut as he skidded to a stop between Chancellor Izunia and the pier. He lifted his blades in front of him._

_“Close enough I think, Chancellor. The Oracle must be permitted to complete her task. As must the King.” It took all Ignis had to speak with authority. The air suddenly felt thick and stifling. He swallowed a lump down his dry throat. But he stood tall._

_Ardyn lazily rolled his eyes. “Such a brave little servant to your dear Noctis. I’m touched. But unimpressed.” His typical careless tone changed then, and the next thing he said was spoken with an unsettling edge. “Run along now, boy.”_

_Ignis’ heart pounded in his chest. Something was wrong. Dreadfully wrong. A phantom unease seized him. He felt like he’d missed something critical and now he was stuck in the dark without a plan. Unprepared. Ignorant. Lost._

_He ignored his fear as best he could and pointed one of his blades right at Chancellor Izunia. He wanted to speak, to say something defiant, but the words wouldn’t come._

_Ardyn sighed wearily. “Fine, have it your way, but I really can’t spare the time to play games today.”_

_With a flourish and a flash of magic, Ardyn summoned a glaive to hand out of thin air._

_It was all Ignis could do to block the sword swipe that came at him faster than he could blink. Panic took hold. His body moved on muscle memory alone, trying to parry each blow. Ardyn was faster than anything Ignis had ever seen. He moved like Noctis. But where the young King’s offense was often aggressive and reckless, none of the Chancellor’s attacks were wasted. With skilled and devastating precision, he beat Ignis backwards._

_The terror inside him rose with the tides. He needed distance. He managed to exchange his daggers for his polearm but it still wasn’t enough. And to Ardyn it all seemed like nothing but a nuisance, while Ignis struggled just to stay on his feet. Somehow Ignis knew the only reason he wasn’t dead yet was because the other man was toying with him. So much for not having time to play games._

_It was no more than seconds, mere seconds, he engaged with Ardyn, but each of those seconds was an exercise in futility. Ignis winced when a powerful strike snapped his weapon clean in two. Before he could recover, Ardyn tossed aside his sword and grabbed Ignis by his throat to pull him in close._

_Ignis struggled. He tried to claw his way free but he was going lightheaded from lack of air. The strength that had hold of him was inhuman, as was the Chancellor’s face glaring back at him. The familiar features twisted before Ignis’ eyes and pits of black ichor appeared, seeping down the other man’s neck. Ignis wanted to vomit when Ardyn drew him in even closer. His breath was hot and reeked of decay. It choked off the air just as much as the fingers around his neck._

_When the creature before him lifted his other hand, right up to Ignis’ face, it was engulfed in fire._

_“You see too much, boy.”_

_All Ignis could do was close his eyes._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gladio was still asleep beside him when he woke from the dream. For a moment, Ignis forgot where he was and he groped around violently as if searching for a door to escape the dark. After nightmares of Altissia he always woke feeling the same as that first time he’d awoken without sight. Now, as it had been then, when his hand slapped onto Gladio’s arm, a firm grip immediately caught him and stilled him.

“We’re at the haven near home.” Gladio’s voice was husky and half asleep but he gave Ignis his bearings. “It’s just us. We slept out here. Never made it to the tent.”

Ignis came back to the present quickly, but not completely enough to stop from reaching for his spectacles.

“You hurled ‘em pretty far. Way past the edge of the haven. Doubt we’ll find ‘em.” Gladio yawned. “You okay?”

“I...I’m fine. Just...disoriented.” There was a time not so long ago he suffered that same dream every night. He’d gone numb to the discomfort of it quickly to the point where it was possibly harder on Gladio. Eventually the frequency decreased but it still occurred often enough to remind him just how fragile happiness was. The four of them had arrived in Altissia with purpose and certainty, content in their duty. They’d left feeling fractured and tainted with grief. Ignis had fallen asleep last night with more hope and determination to cultivate something positive than he’d had in quite a while. It was only fitting the nightmare find him and try to break the feelings he wanted to build upon.

“Hey. Ignis.” Gladio grounded him again, kissed at his neck and then he mumbled softly in his ear. “Wish you’d dream about me instead of having those nightmares. Guess I didn’t give it to ya good enough last night. I can do better. Lemme show you…”

Ignis pushed him away and Gladio laughed. They’d woken up like this enough times, with Ignis trying to pull away from the clutches of past trauma that found him in his sleep and Gladio serving as his foundation in the present. It was enough times for Gladio to know that doting concern was more annoying than helpful. His irreverence, while crude, was always more effective at calming Ignis’ nerves.

Ignis ran his fingers through his hair and stood. “We should check in.”

“Yeah, I’ll text Iris.” Gladio handed him his clothes and they both dressed. “We should go to Lestallum. Like, now. We can stop at Hammerhead and pick up Prompto and Iris though. Cor too. The five of us’ll be fine. We gotta find a judge before something else happens and something always fuckin’ happens. I’m not into doing the ‘long engagement’ thing.”

Ignis had no arguments against that. “Agreed. I’ll check in with the other outposts before we depart and leave orders with Cindy and Dave.”

Gladio’s phone beeped in with Iris’ reply to his text. There was silence for a moment as Gladio read.

“Shit. _Shit_. It’s always fucking something. Come on Iggy. We gotta hurry. Hope you’re up for a fight.” Gladio grabbed his hand. “My bike’s down here.”

“What is it?” Adrenaline rushed into Ignis’ head, his dream forgotten. If there was danger, he hated to admit he was feeling excitement, but it _did_ excite him. As much as Gladio’s lips on him and the ring on his finger. Even more now that Gladio didn’t question that they would be fighting together.

“Longwythe. That generator from Formouth failed, they’re in the dark again and it got bad fast. Cor’s bringing a crew there now. We can meet ‘em.”

Ignis hadn’t been on Gladio’s motorcycle since before they left Insomnia with Noctis. The thing would still be at the Citadel if not for Cor’s foresight in taking it with him when Regis ordered him out of Insomnia the day of the treaty signing. The Marshal had said he simply wanted to take it for a joy ride when Gladio wasn’t around to protest, but Ignis had a feeling the act was more deliberate. Each precious piece of home they could hold onto was important to them now.

As they sped down the highway, Ignis was reminded of the intimacy of holding on for the ride, fingers dug into leather, arms wrapped tightly around the man in front of him. Unable to see the world move past, he let his head fall against Gladio’s shoulder and listened to the wind.

What Ignis had hoped would be a rescue mission turned out to be an evacuation. They were unable hold Longwythe against the daemons. Prompto couldn’t repair the generator and it was all they could do to get out. No one was hurt and Ignis fought competently, with Gladio at his side, but this dance they were trapped in, always one step forward and two steps back, was demoralizing. Triumph these days was always chased by failure and joy by sorrow.

It took several days to redistribute the personnel from Longwythe. Some settled at Formouth, some stayed in Hammerhead. Ignis had to redirect supply lines and travel routes. He still wore the piece of the Regalia, tied to his wrist, and he still wore Clarus’ ring on his finger, but no more was said of an attempt at an elopement in Lestallum.

A week after the official start of the their engagement, Ignis sat at a booth in what used to be Takka’s. The place now served in whatever capacity they needed it to. A base of operations one day, a weapons cache the next. Prompto sat across from him, describing photos he’d taken during a few recent battles. Ignis may be able to use magic to get a sense of a daemon’s abilities, but nothing could replace sight if he was to do his best to formulate strategies they could all use to fight them. New species seemed to crop up by the day and Prompto’s ability to snap pictures on the fly and relate the details to Ignis after the fact was invaluable.

Gladio and Cor were on patrol duty around the Hammerhead fortifications and Iris was uncharacteristically silent in the corner, pouring over books she’d collected out of Ignis and Gladio’s caravan. Ignis sincerely hoped none of it was pornography that Gladio had carelessly left out in the open. It seemed as if Iris had been researching something recently though she wasn’t sharing what had her attention so consumed.

“That’s all I got Ignis, sorry. It was a little crazy when we were running for our lives. Wish I coulda gotten a few more shots.”

“This is very helpful Prompto, you know I would never want you to risk your safety. Every small bit of information is useful.”

They both sat back in their seats and Ignis reached for his mug of coffee.

“So now that things are settled down again, the big guy said we gotta take a trip to Lestallum to find someone to marry you two? That shouldn't be too tough right?”

Ignis wasn’t sure they could ever afford to call things ‘settled’ but nonetheless, he was hoping they could leave soon as well before another crisis fell at their doorstep. “We were hoping to maintain Lucian tradition by finding a crown court judge to record the union officially. An act of defiance of sorts against the state of things. Despite our best efforts, with Noctis gone, we will more than likely continue to suffer losses like Longwythe the longer the land remains in the dark. It is important to keep as much of our civilization intact as we can.” 

“No arguments here. Plus, you two definitely need to have a real ceremony so I can take pictures for Noct. He’ll be pissed he missed it.”

Ignis smiled and sipped his coffee but he almost choked on it when Iris suddenly slammed her hand down onto what sounded like the book in front of her.

“That’s it!” She exclaimed loudly, then she came over and nudged Ignis to the side, scooting into his booth. “I finally found the perfect one!”

Pages fluttered in front of him, and he waited patiently to finally hear what Iris’ research was about.

Prompto spoke up first. “That. Looks. Amazing!”

“I know right?! It’s happening! I don’t care where we have to go to get what we need.”

Ignis swelled with pride. Iris was proving to be skilled and independent. In true Amicitia tradition, the successes of her deeds were certainly outpacing any words. He wondered if she’d managed to discover how to better maintain all of their pirated Nifleheim technology from the manuals Prompto had stockpiled. Or if she was able to get through the old books on Lucian magic faster than Gladio could read them aloud to Ignis and perhaps found a way for all of them to strengthen their abilities until Noctis returned…

“I found your wedding cake Ignis!” Iris grabbed at his arm and bounced happily in her seat.

It wasn’t the grand revelation he’d expected after days of study, but he would be lying if he still didn’t feel a good deal of pride.

“Is that what you’ve been reading about all this time?” He asked, allowing himself an indulgent smile.

“Yes!” She said triumphantly. “This is the one. I’ll read it out to you but, trust me, you’re both gonna love it.”

“It does look amazing, Ignis.”

“Yes Prompto you did already mention that. Perhaps you should surprise me, Iris. I doubt you need my advice to bake anything any more. Your proficiency in the kitchen is superior.”

“Actually, Ignis, I had an idea. I thought you could make it yourself. I’ll help. I figure if you can fight again you can cook. Gladdy’s gonna love it!”

Ignis had spent quite a bit of time tutoring Iris in the culinary arts but he hadn’t attempted anything complicated himself since he’d lost his sight. She was right that it was time he corrected that. It appeared they now had a plan for pictures and a cake.

The stressful urgency he lived with most days lessened over discussions like this, about trivial things. Almost like it used to be. He was starting to feel hopeful again. Which meant they needed to be off to Lestallum to arrange a ceremony before more daemons had a chance to rise up and obstruct their path.

Iris and Prompto were still going on about the frivolities of wedding planning when Gladio and Cor returned from their patrol.

“I want that.” Gladio squeezed in beside Iris, pushing Ignis further into the booth. “It looks fucking amazing.”

“That’s exactly what I said.” Prompto said smugly.

“Ignis is gonna make it for the wedding.” Iris made the statement as if she was checking the item off a list in her head. 

Ignis only half listened to the mostly ridiculous conversation after that. Eventually, Gladio and Cor did manage to report that the local roads looked clear, so they all agreed to pack up and leave for Lestallum by the afternoon and plan to make camp at the first Haven by ‘nightfall’. Gladio, Iris and Prompto left to prepare which left Cor sitting across from Ignis.

“Ignis, I was hoping you would slip me a signal or something to let me know you were being forced into marrying that jackass, but you haven’t yet and you’re not really the type to be pushed around, so I can only assume you actually want to do this?”

Ignis took a casual sip of coffee. “As difficult as that is to believe, at times for me as much as you, yes.”

Cor grunted. “You’re supposed to be the smart one, right?”

Ignis just shrugged. “Love makes fools of us all, Marshal.”

“What was Gladio’s excuse before he fell in love with you then?”

Ignis felt badly about chuckling into his cup at that, but he did it anyway.

“Clarus’ ring suits you.” The Marshal’s tone was always serious and candid, but occasionally, Ignis thought he could detect hidden refrains of fondness and affection. “I’m glad it’s yours now. Wear it with pride, Ignis.”

“I will, Marshal, thank you. And thank you for accompanying us to Lestallum. Speaking of foolishness, this may end up being a fool’s errand.”

Ignis hadn’t had another Altissian nightmare since the night at the haven, and he was not usually one to see omens where logic served better, but it didn’t feel right to give in completely to fantasies of cake and happily ever after.

With that thought still in his head, Cor offered an unexpected and practically clairvoyant statement of wisdom.

“Happily ever after isn’t worth shit. Only a fool would want that. The two of you have been through everything from happy to miserable and all of the pain and joy in between. I’ve tried to teach this to Gladio, but not much gets through his thick head. I have higher hopes for you. Enjoy the road traveled, Ignis. Learn from it. And the destination you wanted will be there for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, it makes me so happy if someone enjoys my stuff as much as I enjoy writing it :)


	9. Chapter 9

Ignis sat awake on the bare stone of the haven. He’d long since left Gladio inside their tent alone and gave up trying to sleep himself. Their trek across Duscae was mostly uneventful. They helped with hunts at the outposts on their route, cleared out a few daemon burrows that threatened the highways and attempted to make it to Lestallum with as little incident as possible. Along the way, whenever they stopped for supplies, Iris ruthlessly bartered and bargained for the ingredients they needed to make the wedding cake she’d chosen.

Without dropping a single gil, she also managed to acquire a silk ribbon for her hair, a new camera strap for Prompto, a beautifully worn-in leather belt for Gladio and a finely crafted scabbard for Cor’s katana. Gladio had always had a knack for scavenging pointless things. Being a magpie was apparently a family trait. She’d even found a pair of shaded glasses similar to the pair Ignis had tossed away. He thanked her for them, but he asked that she hold onto them for when Noctis returned. He hadn’t worn anything to cover his scars since the night he got engaged and he found it suited him and Gladio just fine to not have that either physically or mentally between them any longer. But, as ‘Specs’ was how his King had always known him, Ignis felt it would be fine to save a pair to wear for when they were reunited.

Ignis listened to the sounds of cicadas and the deft steps of Cor as he paced the edges of their campsite. The Marshal usually volunteered for the last watch of the night. He claimed he was old enough that it would be his normal rising hour anyway and he would rather not have to listen to any irritating yawns or complaints from anyone else who would otherwise be forced to wake up so early.

It was strangely peaceful and though Ignis hadn’t been able to sleep he wasn’t feeling fatigued. There was a faint buzz of static from a nearby transformer tower. The white noise was comforting, assuring the country was still illuminated where the Lestallum cables reached. For once, Ignis hadn’t made a detailed plan for when they arrived there. Though he wanted nothing more than to marry Gladio, it was a pleasant feeling to enjoy the special anticipation of it rather than have it be just another item on one of his numerous lists awaiting a check mark.

He brought Clarus’ ring up to his lips to feel the cold metal. The magic in it hummed to him as if letting him know he was safe and, for a moment, he felt things were as good as could be expected. Save Noctis, everyone who mattered to him, everyone he _loved,_ was also safe and nearby. Things were under control. He had direction. Purpose. He could _breathe_ without holding the next breath and he dared to think tomorrow could be better than today.

Until the hum of the ring changed and the buzz from the transformer tower silenced.

Ignis shot to his feet. He heard Cor whisper out a curse.

“Marshal, I can’t hear…”

“The street lights just went out on the west side of the main road. I can’t tell what happened…” Cor didn’t get to finish. Ignis’ phone rang first, then Cor’s. Like dominos tumbling in a row, everyone’s phones started going off.

“This is Ignis.” He answered as he balanced the phone between his ear and his shoulder while pulling on his boots. He heard Gladio rustling out of the tent behind him, also answering a call.

_“It’s me. Where the fuck are you?”_ Aranea was brusk even on a good day but when she led a conversation with profanity Ignis took it seriously.

“We’re not far. There are lights out on the highway. What’s the situation?”

_“Slightly worse than the usual shit show. Might wanna tell your boyfriend to put his pants back on and get your asses here pronto."_

Ignis hadn’t asked Aranea to make her home base Lestallum because she was a diplomat. She was dedicated, reliable and deadly. She was exactly what Lucis’ most important outpost needed. The Crownsguard were too few to maintain a consistent presence anywhere. Aranea and her people kept order, kept the residents secure and kept Ignis apprised of all things. She could say whatever the hell she wanted about Gladio’s trousers.

_“There’s a systems failure at the power plant. Half the city is dark and the power is cut to one of the towers. They think daemons snuck into the works but the crews can’t even get near where they need to make repairs. I gotta keep the fucking daemons off the civilians, they’re like sitting ducks. Get here. Now.”_

She hung up on him. Ignis could not have cared less about her lack of etiquette. He trusted her to do her best until reinforcements came.

Cor and Gladio spoke in tandem as they finished their own calls.

“Meldacio is sending everyone they can. But we’ll still get there first.” Cor was already running. “Iris and I will take the bike. You three take the truck.” Iris didn’t miss a beat, grabbing their packs and hurrying after the Marshal.

“Prompto, grab all the weapons. Leave everything else.” Gladio said. His voice was still deep with the dregs of sleep. “Ignis, what’s our best approach?”

“Southeast highway.” Ignis moved quickly, never so happy for the work he’d put into getting rid of his cane. When he felt Gladio’s hand at the small of his back, he didn’t shrug away in stubborn frustration as he might have done in the past. When before, a touch like that had always felt like it was holding him back, now it felt like it was pushing him forward.

And they had to move forward together. At all costs, move forward.

Gladio drove at breakneck speeds and the motorcycle with Cor and Iris roared ahead of them. They screeched to a stop in the middle of the road and Ignis got out of the truck before Gladio even shut the engine off. He reached out with his magic and was met with a jumble of perceptions. He brought his daggers to hand and lowered his head to try to bring things into better focus.

“Prompto, what do you see?” He asked without shame. Shame was as useless in everyone else’s darkness as it was in his.

“We’re in front of the Coernix station and there’s light here but it looks patchy everywhere else. Looks like Aranea at least got most people off the street...ah _shit_ …”

Ignis felt a large presence rise up ahead of them. An Iron Giant... _no_... _two_. _Fuck_. They’d have to split up. All of them couldn't afford to get pinned down in one place.

“Prompto, flares and starshells... _everywhere. Go_. Light up whatever you can. Find Aranea, she’ll have heavier artillery and if you see any civilians, get them to where there’s light.” Prompto fired off his guns, obeying his orders inmediately.

Ignis called out to Cor. “Marshal, can you and Iris get to the power plant?”

The sound of twin katanas being pulled free pinged in the air with a lethal beauty as Iris answered him. “We’re all over it Ignis! Count on us!”

“Gladio…”

“Gimme some cover will ya?” Gladio was already charging as he shouted. Ignis let loose a shard of ice magic from his hand. He held his breath and flung out with it, hoping his instinct and his sightless vision was correct. When a sword swipe and a satisfying shattering sound reached his ears, Ignis smiled.

“Good work Iggy, I broke one’s arm off!” And thankfully Gladio didn’t sound frozen. “Do it again, at your two o’clock!”

Ignis felt where he needed the magic to land and let fly again but he wasn’t able to wait to hear the outcome. A gust of air cut into Ignis’ cheek from the right and when a heavy feeling, thick and ominous, came from the same direction, he knew he had to _move_ and move fast.

He dove and rolled away from the second giant’s sword just as Gladio shouted a warning that the blow was coming.

“Ignis, are you…”

Gladio grunted and Ignis heard something strike his shield. He kicked himself up to his feet and lit his daggers with fire, ready to run back towards Gladio. When targeted his senses on his partner, he realized he knew exactly where he needed to strike to sever the first giant’s other arm that was now battering Gladio’s shield.

Unfortunately, the precision with which he planned his assistance left him doubly blind to the massive fist from the second opponent that caught him square in the chest. The blow sent him skidding on his backside, a dozen meters at least, down a random alley, away from Gladio and on his own.

Ignis scrambled to his feet. He released his daggers and replaced them with his lance. Dagger work was too close for comfort. He needed defensive space. Disorientation made fear unfurl in his gut. The picture he had in his head of his surroundings shattered like the ice he’d just conjured. Memorizing the layout of the city meant nothing when he didn’t know exactly _which_ alley he was lost in. What he did know was that wherever he was, it had no light at all.

Ignis cursed the long dead city founders for building such meandering and tangential streets. He cursed the designers of the power plant’s cable system for making an electrical network that had no logical grid to it. He cursed patchy darkness and dead ends. He cursed himself for getting separated from Gladio.

Shouting came from a vague orientation ahead but none of the voices were familiar. Gunfire echoed against the tall walls of buildings making it difficult to even guess its direction. Precious seconds ticked away as he tried to throw off his indecision and _do something_.

The doubts in his head suddenly became louder than any of the other noises around him. He didn’t have enough information to make a good choice, or even to make any decent choice at all. It was a grim statement of his present existence, that he may never be able to make the right decision on his own.

His entire life he strove for perfection. Noctis deserved no less. Now, he was not only incapable of achieving perfection, he was barred from any attempt at it.

Perhaps it was a dark irony that it was Ardyn who had blinded him. Ignis had not seen the man for what he truly was. He was blind to Ardyn’s treachery and it was Ardyn who had made physically manifest Ignis’ shortcomings for all the world to know. Sadly, his King too was forced to share in the consequences.

How could Noctis, how could _anyone_ ever trust him, when he couldn’t even trust himself? He was forever flawed, half a man, half a leader, half an advisor who couldn’t see the _whole_.

Unable to concentrate on the weapon in his hands he let it fizzle away. His arms dropped to his sides impotently as he continued to stand there exposed and unable to act. He didn’t even move when footsteps and frantic exclamations rushed towards him.

_“Let’s go down here!”_

_“She said there are lights by the lookout!”_

_“Stay together!”_

A group of frightened citizens brushed past Ignis in a run and inadvertently jostled him but he stayed on his feet. The last one in the group grabbed his arm.

“Hey, do you need help? Don’t go that way, follow us, the main square is covered with daemons. They’re telling everyone to get to the Leville or the outlook. Come on, this alley is pitch black you shouldn’t stay here! There aren’t enough hunters and Crownsguard to protect us!”

That statement made Ignis balk at his moment of weakness. These people were running because they sought protection. Protection that he was duty bound to provide them. Noctis had not absolved him of his duty. He’d been the one who told Noctis he must move forward, at all costs move forward.

So, leading with his lance, Ignis chose a direction ahead of him and ran.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gladio stopped to help a mother carrying her child on her back. He did not stop to help Biggs and Wedge as they engaged a pack of hobgoblins in the market stalls. He stopped to help an old man cornered by a mindflayer. He did not stop to help a group of hunters from Meldacio fight a reaper.

He had to find Ignis. But he also had to execute his duty. Every time he paused his search he felt sick inside, but he knew Ignis would have wanted him to help where he could. Ignis would have demanded it.

Everything around them, every moment of their lives, was sacrifice and death. He wondered how Ignis could still _care_ so much. There was barely anything left of Gladio that cared about the rest of the world. Ignis was his whole world. Gladio felt backed into a corner, forced to pretend he gave a shit for Ignis’ sake when all he wanted to do was take his family somewhere _away_ , where _they_ were all he was responsible for protecting.

High above, one of Prompto’s starshells exploded into light. Gladio couldn’t tell where it was fired from, but it reassured him the kid was still going strong. Iris had Cor with her and Gladio knew she could hold her own just fine alongside the Marshal.

_He had to find Ignis._

They were all capable of fighting against the daemons. The group of them could stay alive as long as it took for Noctis to come home _and fuck everything else_. In his heart though he knew it was wrong to think that. It wasn’t what his father had trusted him to do and it wasn’t why Regis had trusted him with his son. But, the more daemons and dead bodies he passed in the streets as he ran in search of his partner, the longer the darkness went on, the longer the world stayed like this, the more Glaido _hated_ it, hated everything, and the more he thought that the trust of their fathers was misplaced.

He had to find Ignis. Because Ignis was the only one left among them who could be trusted to do his duty and make everyone else keep to theirs.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was blind luck that led Ignis to the main square. Blind luck and the sound of morbid laughter as a familiar voice yelled out _“Too easy!”_

Ignis took in the state of the square. The place had once been crowded with cafes. Now it felt crowded with daemons.

“Aranea!” He called out. “Watch yourself!” Ignis only gave her a moment to take cover before he electrified the area with magic. Using the shock of his leading attack, he fought through the temporarily paralyzed nightspawn with his lance. He kept his jumps high and his thrusts quick, in and out, trying not to expose himself to close quarters combat.

He heard the screech and clank of a metal frame stomping around and rapid, high caliber gunfire peppering the pavement. Aranea must have brought in a mech to help control the situation. Ignis was lucky he hadn’t disabled it with his lightning. He switched to fire for his next spell and reveled in the heat from the flames. The hotter they got, the more daemons he knew they consumed.

When a sudden blast of wind whooshed into him and something appeared inside the reach of his lance, he stumbled backwards and raised his weapon.

“You may handle that thing pretty good but you keep your lance to yourself, Ignis. It’s... _duck_!” Aranea stopped mid-sentence and pulled them both to the ground. Bullets shot over their heads and then they seemed to thud dully into some kind of gelatinous form, likely a flan. They stayed down while a second round of shots fired and then, just as the nauseating creature burst like a balloon behind them, Aranea launched herself away, leaving Ignis covered in flan ichor.

_You bitch._

Ignis stood, dripping, and rubbed his fingers together letting lightning spark between them.

“Aranea, _duck_.” He said. Softly.

The magic did it’s job of cutting down the naga that had appeared to threaten the old Nif mech that was still spraying bullets at all the daemons in its sights. It also did the job of catching Aranea with a stray jolt of electricity.

“Ow! You missed asshole!”

Ignis wished he could see her face. “I am _blind_ , Aranea.”

More grim laughter echoed up into the air as Aranea kept fighting.

They put their heads down and persisted against the daemons. Aranea was airborn more than on the ground and Ignis was lit up with magic more than he was paralyzed by doubts. No time to breathe meant no time to think and fighting beside someone like the former Niflheim captain was exactly what Ignis needed in that moment.

Things seemed less crushingly bleak when his muscles were moving and much less tragic when he wasn’t praying his blindness wasn’t going to cause his friends their lives accidentally. He could go _all in_ fighting with Aranea. Commit himself to the job. To his duty. He loved fighting alongside Gladio again, and he would never want to go back to a time when he was removed from the action watching his friends fight for him. But this, fighting on his own without a lover or a loved one there to coddle him was liberating. _It was a step forward._

It was hours before Iris and Cor succeeded in helping the crews at the power plant get the lights back on. Ignis and Aranea were neck deep in daemon corpses and fading black smoke when the Marshal marched into the square.

“Hey, here comes your immortal friend. He’s got the cute Amicitia on his back. She looks beat.” Aranea helped Ignis up from where they had sat down to catch their breath.

“Iris, are you alright?” Ignis asked as he let Aranea lead him over to them.

Cor answered him. “She’s fine Ignis, she helped the crews jumpstart the system with magic. It took a lot out of her.” The Marshal sounded both proud and awestruck at Iris’ contribution.

Iris yawned. “You alright Ignis? Wait...Where’s Gladdy?”

“I’m over here.” Gladio called back at his sister. He sounded worn. Exhausted. More so than Iris. But he sounded uninjured. A terrible tension finally unwound inside Ignis’ chest. He hadn’t let himself acknowledge he’d been tight with worry but now that relief washed over him he wondered how he’d been able to ignore it.

“Guys, give us hand okay…?” Prompto came towards them alongside Gladio.

They were all alive. Still alive. And they’d done their duty.

Aranea continued to narrate the scene for Ignis. Gladio was carrying a citizen in his arms, a woman covered in blood. Prompto had two small children clinging to his legs. People started streaming into the square, shell shocked and frightened. Their small corner of the world had light again but they knew now how precarious their existence was.

Ignis learned later the full extent of the carnage. He’d walked with Prompto through the streets, taking stock of the damage and cataloging the dead himself. He’d stood by as Gladio lifted bodies and laid them in rows to be identified by their families. If they had any left.

They lost forty-six Lucians in less than a day. Twenty-three men. Eighteen women. Five children. Ignis stayed in the square until each one was counted, recorded and taken away to be buried. His friends had long since retired to the Leville for well-earned sleep. He’d even sent Gladio back by himself saying he needed to concentrate on the immediate clean up and make sure everyone had their orders to put things to rights as quickly as possible.

When Ignis finally walked back to the hotel alone he wasn’t sure how he was able to keep his legs moving under him. Gladio was waiting in the lobby and they went upstairs silently to a room that had been set aside just for the two of them.

Ignis sat on the bed. Gladio stood on the balcony.

“Did we lose anyone we know?” Gladio asked. The words sounded empty. It was as if he felt he had to ask them, but was unable to muster any emotion behind them.

“No. But Aranea lost one of her men and we lost two hunters from Meldacio. It could have been much worse. It was a stroke of luck that we were nearby to render aid so quickly.”

Gladio’s heavy footsteps came in from outside and Ignis caught a waft of sweat and leather as the other man knelt down by the bed in front of him. Gladio took his hands. He toyed at the Regalia’s leather still wrapped around Ignis’ wrist and he brought Clarus’ ring on Ignis’ finger up to his lips and kissed it reverently.

“Look, Ignis, I know it doesn't seem right after everything that just happened but we still have to do this. It wasn’t dumb luck that we were so close when this happened. We only headed here for this in the first place.” Gladio stroked the pad of his thumb across the ring. “It means we’re on the right track. And no matter what happens we have to…

“...keep moving forward. I know.” It was what Ignis had told Noct. It was what he told himself.

Ignis just didn't have the heart to tell Gladio that the last surviving judge of the Crown Court, the last person who could marry them officially, was among the dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm slowly trying to write my way out of my writer's block funk. Forty-six Lucians were sacrificed to that end ;p Thanks for reading! These poor babies just need to get hitched already.


End file.
